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Engraved. My G-. H . : 



MEMORIAL 



MAEY E. SMALLEY, 






LATE THE WIFE OF JOHN W, SAELES, 



PASTOB OF THE CENTRAL BAPTIST CHITBCH, 



BROOKLYN. 



BY HER HUSBAND. 



■£>* 



: NEW YORK: 

HOLMAN, PRINTER, CORNER CENTRE AND WHITE STREETS. 



186 7. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 

JOHN W. SARLES, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern 
District of New York. 



Stereotyped and Printed by 
Thomas Holman. 



TO THE 



CENTRAL BAPTIST CHURCH AND CONGREGATION, 



ESPECIALLY THE YOUNG, 



THIS MEMORIAL 



WHO GREATLY LOVED THEM AND LIVED FOR THEM, 



AND WHOM 



THEY WERE NEVER WEARY IN HONORING. 



IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 



THEIR PASTOR. 



PEEFACE, 



It is believed that this volume will be particu- 
larly grateful to the very large circle who have 
known the subject of it. 

Not alone for the gratification of friends, how- 
ever, has it been prepared. Evidence has been 
constantly accumulating that the life it attempts 
to sketch has been made a blessing to many, and 
that widely there are sorrowing hearts persistently 
asking for an extended memorial of departed 
worth, so keenly appreciated and deeply bemoan- 
ed, — many young hearts, where her memory per- 
petuated, will live only to be blessed. This has 
been deemed quite sufficient to justify the labor, 
and even demand the publication. Nor is it too 
much to hope that still others may yet live be- 
cause she died. 

So far as a history is attempted, only a brief 



VI PREFACE. 



outline is designed, and no effort whatever has 
been made to call in an extensive correspondence. 

Should the cursory reader see in these pages 
some article not specially marked for excellence, 
he will need to note at what age she wrote it, — 
to bear in mind also that the selections have been 
made with an eye upon households of all ages, — 
and perhaps, besides that, he will need to attrib- 
ute much to a strong partiality, that is never very 
discriminating. No indulgence need be asked 
from those who have known her. 

So far as the original is reproduced, the stranger 
who reads will find himself in the presence of one 
of the noblest of noble Christian women. 

J. W. S. 



Brooklyn, April, 1867. 



CONTENTS. 


• 








PAGE. 


CHAPTER I. 






Childhood ...... 


. 


1 


CHAPTER II. 






Education— Earlier Compositions . 


. 


10 


CHAPTER IE. 






Compositions— Humor .... 


• 


27 


CHAPTER IV. 






Later School Compositions— Poetic 




47 


CHAPTER V. 






The Great Sorrow .... 


. 


84 


CHAPTER VI. 






The Jot Unspeakable .... 


. 


89 


CHAPTER VH. 






First Three Years in the Kingdom 


• 


94 


CHAPTER Vin. 






The Pastor's Wife .... 


. 


103 


CHAPTER LX. 






Miscellaneous Articles .... 


• 


123 


CHAPTER X. 






The Last Three Months 


• 


141 


CHAPTER XL 






The Sleep in Jesus .... 


. 


156 


CHAPTER XII. 






Moral and Religious Characteristics 


. 


169 


CHAPTER XIII. 






Worth Appreciated .... 


' 


189 



CHAPTER I. 



CHILDHOOD. 

The following pages, delineating a noble charac- 
ter and a gifted mind, under the moulding hand of 
grace, -will imprint or suggest their own varied 
lessons. The child, the youth, and the parent, — the 
thoughtless worldling, the false professor, the timid 
believer, and the ripened saint, — may find entertain- 
ment, companionship, incitement, suggestion, warn- 
ing, counsel, or example, needed by them, and wor- 
thy of the sainted dead. 

Mary Elizabeth, daughter of John and Maria 
W. Smalley, and late the wife of John W. Sarles, 
was born in Brooklyn, January 10, 1834. 

Her father died when she was eight years of age. 
To shield her young heart as much as possible in the 
trying hour, he had said, " Don't let Mary know that I 
am dying." Very soon, however, she had to know that 
the family numbered only three. Her sister being a 
little child, she seemed to accept it that she was ap- 
pointed to be her mother's chief stay and solace ; and 
the place was gratefully accorded to her. From 
that time on it was her care, and equally her pleas- 
ure, to fulfill the appointment. 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



How promptly, and steadily, and nobly, she pur- 
sued that first great purpose of her life, her mother, 
as no one besides but God, knows. Never did she 
falter in it. 

Her first book of compositions opens when she 
was at the age of ten, and extends through two 
years. 

Child as she was, the reader will not weary with 
a few selections ; and intimate friends will recognize 
in the earliest of them the lineaments of those traits 
that afterward became so fascinating. On the first 
unmarred page is one entitled, 

THE ELEPHANT. 

The elephant is the largest beast known since the Flood. It 
can be tamed and becomes very docile, but will never forget an 
injury done him. I will relate a little incident I once read : Ele- 
phants are very fond of eggs ; a man, knowing this, thought he 
would tease the elephant, and therefore he gave one an egg that 
was rotten. The elephant was greatly enraged at this, and when 
he saw the man again he made a terrible noise until the man was 
gone. 

They always remember their keepers, and when they are dead 
or gone away, they act as if they are sorry, and will not mind 
any other person. 

An elephant will guard a child so that it will not get hurt. It 
will take a pin out with the end of its trunk, dance, and bow to 
the audience. It has long ears with which it brushes off the flies. 
It has very large feet and small eyes. In Africa they prevent 
wild elephants from running away by tying a rope around their 
legs. Done. 



CHILDHOOD. 



Thirty-two pieces additional fill the book : 



The Evils of Tale-Bearing. 

New Year's Day. 

A Dialogue. 

Lucy Brown, the Blind Girl. 

Sketch of the City of Philadelphia. 

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter 

— An Allegory. 
Art and Nature. 
Death— An Allegory. 
On Reason and Vanity. 
Sketch of the Life of George 

Washington. 
Ruth — Naomi. 
The Hermit. 
The Mother. 
A Dream. 
A Letter. 
Autobiography of a Half-Dollar. 



The Snow-Storm. 
An Enigma. 
Moonlight. 
Childhood. 
An Enigma. 
School Parle. 
A Letter. 
Wisdom. 
The Sailor. 
Steam. 
Night. 

An Acrostical Enigma. 
Antony and Cleopatra. 
A Letter. 
Home. 

Autobiography of a Rose Gera- 
nium. 
Woman. 



The first of these, " The Evils of Tale-Bearing," 
is strongly characteristic. Following close after is 
another, "Lucy Brown, the Blind Girl," equally 
indicative of a life-long trait — an instinctive prompt- 
ing to make the best of everything. 



THE EVILS OP TALE-BEARING. 

About thirty years ago, in one of the handsome houses in 
Yorkshire, England, lived a gentleman by the name of Mr. 
Green. He was a mania affluent circumstances, had married 
very young, and had four children: one girl, whose name was 
Ella, and three boys, whose names were Howell, Charles, and 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



Edward. Ella was a spoiled child; her father humored her in 
almost everything she wanted. 

Ella had acquired the practice of tale-bearing. She would 
tattle everything she heard. 

Her mother tried in vain to correct her, for whenever she would 
punish her, her father would set it all wrong by coaxing her. 

One night she went to bed, when in the middle of the night she 
was awakened by a bad dream, and (as her parents slept in the 
next room) she heard them talking low, so she jumped lightly out 
of bed, and applying her ear to the key-hole, heard distinctly * 
every word they said. Her father was saying that he was fail- 
ing in his business very fast, and that if his creditors were to hear 
it he would surely fail. The next evening Ella went to a ball. 
She had not been there long before a young man came up and 
asked her to dance. When the cotillon was over, they sat down 
and began to converse. The young man, whose name was Rock- 
well, asked her if she knew Henry Cole's father had failed. She 
answered : " No ; but," said she " I expect my father will fail 
soon, but I hope not till the balls are over." " Why," said Mr. 
Rockwell, " I thought your father was in good circumstances !" 
" Oh ! you know little about that," said Ella ; " for I heard my 
father say he would fail soon I" 

Now Mr. Rockwell's father was one of Mr. Green's creditors, 
and he went and reported it all about. So, had it not been for a. 
kind aunt, he certainly would have failed. 

Ella was very sorry, and no one could accuse her of tale-bearing 
again. 



LUCY BROWN, THE BLIND GIRL. 

Lucy Brown, the subject of our story, was a little girl about 
ten years of age. Fourth of July had come; all was bright 
and happy. Lucy's brother had received the day before some 
fire-crackers, and it was his delight to frighten Lucy with them. 



CHILDHOOD. 



Lucy tried to hide away ; but she was unfortunate, for her 
brother would find her out in every place she went. But as she 
was coming out of the house he fired one off, and the powder 
went in her eyes. She screamed, and her mother ran out and 
endeavored to pacify her, but in vain ; the light of her eyes was 
forever extinguished. Doctors were sent for ; but they said the 
optic nerve was destroyed. 

Her brother saw too late the mischief he had done. The doc- 
tor said she must be sent to the Blind Institute. Her parents 
were very sorry to part with her ; but Lucy said she would know 
how to do everything if she went there. Four years, four long 
years, had elapsed since she had been separated from the family. 
In that time she had learned to read in books on raised letters, 
how to sew very neatly, how to make baskets, and in short do 
everything that was required of a blind girl. 

When four years were gone, she returned ; and oh, what a happy 
meeting that was ! She could not see them, but could feel them, 
and she was happy with all. 

May he who made you weep be nigh 

To wipe away your tears, 
And point you to a world on high, 

Beyond these mournful years. 



Following now in order, six added pieces are 
given. 



SPRING, SUMMER, AUTUMN, AND WINTER—AN ALLEGORY. 

A mother was bending over her child as it lay sleeping in its 
richly curtained bed. It was a sweet child of four years. Its 
golden hair fell in ringlets about the forehead spotless as the snow. 

Fifteen years had passed ; the child had blossomed into a beau- 
tiful young girl ; she was the ornament of the family, the pride of 



MEMOKIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



her mother. She was beautiful ; she always wore a crown of 
roses on her head, and she was very amiable. 

Fifteen more years had elapsed ; the fair girl had bloomed into 
a mother. She still retained part of her loveliness. She had two 
daughters, they were very beautiful. 

Thirty more years had passed ; her hair was white as the snow, 
her cheek was sunken ; at length she was stretched on her dying 
bed ; she remembered what her mother had told her : " Child, you 
must die." 

Spring comes clothed in flowers, 

Summer in bowers, 
Autumn in fields of grain, 
Winter in snow, ice, and rain. 



DEATH—AN ALLEGORY. 

As I was taking my usual walk one morning, I met an old man 
of venerable appearance. " Howard Gaffer," I exclaimed ; " where 
art thou wandering ?" He said not a word, but motioned me to 
follow ; he went to a cottage where there laid a child, worn out 
by disease and in spasms. He spoke, and the child slept. Again, 
he told me to follow to the palace of a king, who was lying in the 
agonies of death. He breathed upon his forehead — his sighs were 
hushed. Again, and once again, he beckoned me to follow to the 
house of a poor woman, whose only child was very sick, and she 
was praying that he might depart easily. He touched him, and 
he slept to awaken in the realms where no sorrow is known. 
"Reverend man," I said, " what is thy name?" He looked at 
me and said : " I am called the 'Angel of Mercy ' in the other 
world, but blinded mortals call me Death." 

He is the " Angel of Mercy" on earth, 

The messenger of love ; 
The one oar Father thinks best to send, 

From his heavenly dwelling above. 



CHILDHOOD. 



A DREAM. 

As I was lying one night upon my bed, a being came to me all 
dressed in white, and in the form of a beautiful woman. "Arise, 
daughter of woman !" it exclaimed, " and come with me, for my 
name is Truth. I will show thee goodly things." And methinks 
it took me by the hand, and led me away to a broad, verdant 
plain, where there were two roads, one led to the right, and one 
to the left. The one to the right was straight and narrow, and 
few there were that followed it. The one to the left was broad 
and crooked, and throngs of people were going to it ; flowers grew 
plentifully along its sides ; and many were enticed by the syren 
songs of Pleasure to wander from the road, where poor deluded 
mortals stumbled in the gulfs of Destruction and Death. And 
many took the road to pluck the flowers that grew by its side, 
which were intemperance, disgrace, poverty, and foolish entertain- 
ments. But alas ! serpents were concealed beneath them, which 
stung their victims, and made them wish to pluck no more. And 
methinks it grew dark and cloudy, and I heard shrieks and im- 
ploring cries from the left road. Then all was darkness. But I 
turned my attention to the right road, where there were few 
people, but they were singing sweet songs ; and I looked and be- 
held a shining palace, where the pilgrims were received with songs 
of triumph and great rejoicings, and Truth was beside me. At 
this moment I awoke ; and lo ! it was a dream. 



CHILDHOOD. 

Well do I remember the days of my childhood,' 
When oft I have wandered by the side of the stream; 

And oft I have dreamed of the greeu and the wildwood, 
And awakened and found it was naught but a dream. 



Oh ! in the green fields I often did wander, 
And by the old well many a time I have stood, 

And cut from the stalks the wild flowers asunder ; 
Oh ! what happy times I have had in that wood. 

And how I have drunk from that bucket of oaken, 
And many a time I have sported in glee, 

With my brothers and sisters, and gave as a token 
Some wild flowers sweet, 'cause they rambled with me. 

Oh ! now recollections of childhood come o'er me, 
And my home, — that dear, that familiar old name! 

Oh ! dearest home, it was hard to part from thee ; 
May thy remembrance to me be always the same. 



NIGHT. 



In mythology, Nox is called the goddess of night, and was 
worshiped with great reverence by the ancients. She is repre- 
sented standing in a car or chariot, drawn by bats and owls, and 
at other times drawn with a vail around her head, which is be- 
spangled with stars. Night, sublime and lovely night, thou 
lookest with a motherly tenderness on a slumbering world ! 

Young describes it beautifully, thus : 

" Night, sable goddess, from her ebon throne, 
In rayless majesty, now stretches forth 
Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. 
Silence, how dead ! and darkness, how profound ! 
Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds. 
Creation sleeps." 

Nothing affords a more beautiful subject for contemplation 
than a moonlight night, the moon with rays so soft and yet so 
brilliant that she completely extinguishes the stars when they 
approach. 



CHILDHOOD. 



WOMAN. 

Tis not in hours of gladness 
That woman's love is shown ; 

But when we pine in sadness, 
Neglected and unknown. 

'Tis not when hopes are brightest, 
When blessed with all we love, 

Nor when our hearts are lightest, 
Can we her value prove. 

But when the ties are broken, 
Which binds us unto earth, 

And by the world forsaken, 
We then can feel her worth. 



Her twelfth year was now nearly completed ; and 
in parting from the teacher of a primary school, she 
received these gentle touches from the moulding 
hand that God had employed for full two years : 

" Bear Mary : — May the tie which has long bound us be not soon 
severed. At least let us hope that our lives be one of ' holy friend- 
ships,' and that when the evening of our days approaches, naught but 
happy reminiscences may be the burden of our memory. For you, dear 
girl, I could wish all happiness; that clouds, if they dim thy horizon 
at all, be as evanescent as the ' morning dew ;' and that ever, as now, 
you preserve that gentle, confiding nature. Indulge thy taste for the 
beautiful of God's creation ; be it ever thine to trace the works and 
adore the bounties of the omniscient Artist. May the influence of the 
Holy Dove guide you safely through the devious paths of life ; and 
when at last, wearied of this world's vanities, you sink to rest, may 
kind angels guard your dying pillow, and waft your soul to realms 
where sorrow is unknown. 

"Ever yours, Anna E. Cooper." 

This prayer was answered. 
1* 



10 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



CHAPTER II. 



EDUCATION— EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 

In Mary the days of childhood were quite ended 
at the age of thirteen, so that in physical and intel- 
lectual and moral development she was fitted to be, 
and was companion, and counselor to her mother. 

Her father, a graduate of Princeton and following 
the legal profession, was much addicted to literary 
pursuits. His keen appreciation of high intellectual 
culture led him to provide by Will that his children 
should have the best educational advantages. 

The Brooklyn Female Academy, now known as 
the "Packer Collegiate Institute/ 7 presented the de- 
sired facilities, and at the age of eighteen she gradu- 
ated, having so acquitted herself as to stand among 
the brightest ornaments of that institution. 

During her connection with the academy she wrote 
on many themes : 



The First Murder. 

An Evening in Broadway. 

Winter. 

The Death Angel. 

" Forget Me Not." 

Hagar. 



Twilight. 

Proserpina. 

The Blind. 

The Raising of Lazarus. 

Savage Strife. 

Sleep. 



EDUCATION — EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 11 


The Creation. 


Angel Whisperings. 


The Ocean. 


The Fortunes of Nigel. 


The Spring-Time. 


The Angel of the Clouds. 


The Ferry-Boat. 


Midnight. 


My Friend Charlotte. 


The Miser of Marseilles. 


The Last Days of Saul. 


The Orphan's Song. 


" The Old Must Die, the Young 




May Die." 




Many of these which follow do not appear here in 


the order in which they were written. 


My Dream. 


Death of the Inhabitants of the 


Resemblances. 


Moon. 


The Unseen. 


Lines to a Little Dog. 


St. Valentine's Warning. 


How to be Known — I. 


Hymn. 


Parody on Hohenlinden. 


" The Curse of the Sleepless Eye." 


How to be Known. — II. 


The Deluge. 


The Darling. Chapters L, II., 


Curiosity. 


m., rv. 


Shadows. 


Mrs. Quack's Thought Lotion. 


The Jewish Maid. 


The City Hall Clock. 


Lines. 


Young Ladyism : 


Thoughts. 


The Sentimental Young Lady. 


The Mother of a Hero. 


The Borrowing Young Lady. 


Hymn for Commencement. 


The Sensitive Young Lady. 


Mountains. 


The Nervous Young Lady. 


Lake Horicon. 


Valentine to the Public. 


Letter from a Graduate. 


The Victim of the Bastille. 


The Ship of Death. 


Review of Lecture. 


The King of the Jews. 


Lines. 


Ho ! to the Land with Shadowing 


Editorial. 


Wings. 


Trifles Captivate Little Minds. 


The Far-Off Graves. 


The Sunshine. 


Summer Evening. 


Letter— Dear Annie. 


Snow. 


Our Aviary. 


A Fragment. 


Musquitoes. 


Life. 


A Blessing Mother ! 


Story and Review of Jack and Gill. 


iEolian Strains. 



12 MEMORIAL OF MAEY E. SAELES. 



" Let the Dead Bury the Dead." 
Welcome to Kossuth. 

To 

The Bird of Paradise. 
To a Bachelor. 
The Mermaid's Song. 
To a Lady. 



A Fragment. 

Ellie Rue. 

A Ditty of New York City. 

A Valentine. 

A Morning Prayer. 

Easter Offerings. 

Elsie Grey. 

Parting Song. 

Those who are likely to be the readers of this 
book will not be content with so general a notice of 
these compositions, and many would even plead for 
them entire. It comes well within the design of the 
volume to give a free selection of what her own 
heart and hand prepared, the better to perpetuate a 
memory so fragrant. 

The pieces that now immediately follow, in the 
order of their writing, reach on to the close of her 
fifteenth year. 



THE DEATH ANGEL. 

Night came spreading her dark wings over Egypt's dewy 
land. The glassy waves of the Nile reflected the silvery moon, 
as she hung resplendent in the sparkling heaven above. The 
gentle stars came twinkling one by one out of their bed of dark 
azure, when the avenging angel of God came on his sorrowful 
mission to the sinful world. Sad it was, indeed, for the Almighty 
had commanded that the first-born of all Egypt should die. 
Slowly he sped on his errand ; to the palace, to the hovel, to the 
prison ; from all was heard, breaking on the still night air, the 
voice of weeping. Onward he sped to the palace of the noblest 
prince of Egypt. "With his cold fingers he touched the forehead 
of his only boy — his only hope. 



EDUCATION— EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 13 

The child's large eye dimmed, and the cold death-dew came 
rapidly over his noble brow; one agonizing struggle, and the 
spirit was released from earthly bondage. Still onward sped the 
angel, to the convict's cell, where, reposing by the prisoner's side, 
like a fair flower beneath a blighted tree, was seen a beautiful 
child. It was his only, first-born one. The angel paused; a 
shadow like that of the night came over his face. He gazed upon 
the form of that innocent child, and then a bright smile illumed 
his countenance, and the dark shadow was dissipated, while he 
exclaimed : " It were better for thee, fair child, to be with God ; 
thou art too lovely for this sinful earth." Then he breathed 
gently upon her forehead, and the roseate glow fled from her 
cheek, and the cold, chilling aspect bespoke of death. Onward, 
onward, still onward he took his way, carrying death and destruc- 
tion in his train. At last his task was done, and speeding his 
way upward, through fathomless space, to the throne of the in- 
finitely just and awful God, and vailing his face, he exclaimed : 
" It is done, O Lord, as thou hast commanded." 

But on earth, before the glorious morning streaked the sky 
with gold, was heard the voice of weeping and lamentation, for 
not one family had escaped the just wrath of the living God. 

And the great King Pharaoh called for Moses and Aaron in 
the night, and exclaimed : " Rise up, and get you forth from 
among my people, both ye and the children of Israel, and serve 
the Lord as ye have said, and take your flocks and your herds, 
as ye have said, and be gone, and bless me also." 

Then went they out from the king's presence, and all the 
people of Egypt came rallying around them, their pale faces and 
haggard looks bespeaking of great sorrow, and with one common 
voice they exclaimed : " Go from us, or we shall all be dead men." 



SAYAGE STRIFE. 

The forest sun was proudly gleaming, 

The river rolled its waves below, 
The air with warblers sweet was teeming, 

The verdure many hues did show ; 
When breaking on the air of heaven, 

An Indian war- shout, long and loud, 
Was heard ; and warriors, wrathful driven. 

Were coming in a dusky cloud. 

Two Indian tribes there were engaging, 

With enmity between them rife, 
A battle bloody, fierce was waging, 

Unmindful of each other's life. 
For foes and friends alike were lying 

In scattered heaps upon the ground ; 
The dead, the wounded, and the dying, 

Alike untended lay around. 



THE OCEAN. 

How mighty is the ocean ; the mirror of the stars, reflecting 
them back in almost original beauty ! 

When first it was formed by the Almighty, the stars gazed 
into its bosom, as though contemplating their wonderful construc- 
tion ; and the moon rode triumphantly in silent beauty, shedding 
her long line of silvery light upon its waters. 

Years passed on, the inhabitants of the earth increased in num- 
ber. Still dashed the waters of the ocean against its shores ; 
still did the moon shine brightly in the blue arch of heaven ; 
still did the king of light shed a shower of dazzling beams on the 
ocean. All obeyed the commands of God ; but the beings whom 
he had created in his own image, they did not bow in adoration 
at his name, but worshiped idols of their own formation, the 



EDUCATION — EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 15 

work of their own hands. The just wrath of God was aroused, 
aud he decreed that the wicked nations should perish. The 
waters were made obedient to his will, and " he drowned a world, 
and heaped the waters far above its loftiest mountains." 

Oh ! sorrowfully rolled the earth around, when she saw that her 
verdant fields and valleys, her lovely flowers, her rugged rocks 
and mountains, and her beautiful but wicked inhabitants, were 
buried beneath the waters. Then the stars looked down as 
though in sorrow, for naught could they see but the ark, that 
seemed like a tiny flower-leaf tossed in this vast expanse of 
waters. All was still and silent as the grave, save when a peal of 
thunder rent the air with its rattling noise, as the vivid lightning 
flashed across the sky and illumined the world of waters. 

Years passed on. The earth was again peopled, and all looked 
fair and happy on this beautiful world. But man was the same 
rebellious creature as before, and the anger of God might again 
have visited mankind, had not the Savior, the most holy and just, 
offered himself a sacrifice for their sins. 

Hundreds of years have passed away since that wonderful 
event, and generations, nations, kingdoms, empires, and even some 
of the tribe of heaven (worlds like ours), have passed away ; but 
still the ocean remains unchanged. Still do its waters find a 
place in the globe ; still the roaring and heaving of its billows 
proclaim a God. Oh ! is not even this enough to convince the 
infidel that there is a God ? Does he think the ocean came by 
chance ? If there was no God, would chance keep the ocean from 
inundating the world ? 

Far, far down in its depths are treasures richer than the eye 
can tell or tongue describe. The costly diamond, that would 
grace a kingly crown, and be the proudest gem, lies hid beneath 
the heavy sea-weed, and the rich coral is made the habitation of a 
tiny worm. There mighty ships, with their valuable merchandise, 
lie with the waters foaming above them. There, too, are many of 
the loved and the lost. There lies the drowned mariner, his rich 



16 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

locks combining with the moss and sea-weed which vails his face, 
while the howling winds and roaring billows chant his only re- 
quiem. There shall they all remain until the trump shall sound, 
and then will the ocean reveal its treasures and give up its dead. 



TB"E SPRING TIME. 

How I love the spring time ; the joyous spring ; with all its 
softness and beauty, lightness and happiness ! 

How beautiful are the spring flowers, "just fresh with child- 
hood," peering so lovingly from out the earth, vailed partly by 
the leaves that surround them ! The gentle daisy peeps timidly 
out, and lifts its little head in beauty ; while the meek violet and 
forget-me-not almost hide their blue eyes beneath their mantle of 
green, seeming as if they hardly dared to gaze on the deep blue sky. 
But the " pasque-flower" and " yellow primrose " lift their heads, 
and seem to consider themselves as of most importance. When the 
breeze passes over them, they scarcely deign to bend to it, while 
the other flowers dance and wave to its every motion, seeming to 
enjoy its frolics. The snow-drop hangs down its emerald-crowned 
head while the breeze kisses its pure cheek. 

But I love the myrtle and lily of the valley best of any. The 
one looks so sweetly as it reposes on its bed of dark deep green, 
and gazes so earnestly on the sky ; and the other shakes its little 
bells, and you can almost imagine you hear their tiny chimes. I 
always loved that flower, sweet emblem of innocence and purity. 
The trees, too, have cast off the sombre hue of winter, and, clothed 
in their spring attire, wave to and fro in gladness. Now, too, the 
apple, peach, plum, cherry, and pear blossoms begin to appear 
from out their cloaks, which have been wrapped so closely around 
them. 

How I love the showers of spring, when " bright drops are 
sparkling on tree, shrub, and flower !" Such delicious odors are 



EDUCATION — EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 17 

wafted to us from the flowers, that we do not mind having the 
sun hidden from our view for a short time, and then when again 
he breaks out from his mantle of clouds, everything seems to re- 
joice in his presence. How the wet leaves sparkle as they catch 
his beams, and how the rain-drops in the cups of the flowers be- 
come as drops of gold ! "Water, pure from the clouds, always 
makes a feeling of thankfulness and happiness pervade my breast. 

There is something in the air of spring so exhilarating and 
life-giving to the frame. It is delightful on a beautiful day to 
have the warm breeze fan your cheek, and to see it bend the 
flowers, and kiss the leaves of the tall trees, sending a low mur- 
mur through them. 

But what I love best is to be in the country when spring wears 
her garland of leaves. All nature partakes of the general joy. 
The grass, what a lively green ! How lovely are the meadows 
and fields ! Everything now wears an air of freshness and beauty. 



MY FRIEND CHARLOTTE. 

Once I'd a friend, a fair young friend, 
With rosy lip and laughing eye, 

And merry, ringing voice so sweet, 
It did not seem that she must die. 

Full oft her large dark eyes would fill 
With gentle tears for other's woes ; 

Alas ! how soon those beaming orbs 
Upon my sight were doomed to close. 

Too soon Consumption's deadly breath 
Came like the simoon's withering blast ; 

And then we knew our lovely flower 
Upon the ground would soon be cast. 



18 MEMOEIAL OF MARY E. SAELES. 

For then the rosy hue of health 
Was changed to one that hectic blushed 

And soon, alas ! too soon, we saw 

Her gentle breathings still and hushed. 

Crushed by the powerful hand of death, 
We laid her in the lowly grave ; 

Yet wept not much, — we knew that she 
Was safe with Him who died to save. 

Our hopes are like the fleeting wind, 
That blows the autumn leaves along 

The frozen ground, and sings to them 
A melancholy requiem song. 

But though on earth our joys are doomed 
To fade like flowers before the sun, 

Still they'll revive, and live for aye, 
When our short earthly race is run. 



THE OLD MUST DIE ; THE YOUNG MAY DIE.' 

" The old, with trembling, palsied frame, 

And silvered hair, 
And lofty brow, whose furrows show 

Their weight of care ; 

1 The old must die.' 

" But oh ! the young, with hopes as bright 

As summer's morn, 
Who fondly think that every rose 

Wears not a thorn ; 

1 The young may die.' 



EDUCATION — EAELIER COMPOSITIONS. 



19 



" Ah, yes ! the young, with joyful thoughts, 

Aud lofty mind, 
And lightsome step, and gentle heart, 

To sorrow kind ; 

' The young may die.' " 

A loved one spoke these solemn tones, 

This lesson said ; 
Alas ! her words were verified, — 
She's with the dead. 

Ah ! she was soon cut down like flowers 

Before the scythe, 
All bright and beautiful ; alas ! 

That she should die. 

Her hopes were brighter than the tints 

Of richest flowers, 
And she had twined like ivy round 

These hearts of ours. 

Our fairy chain has snapped— has broke, 

One link has gone ; 
It quivered, but an instant's time — 

From us was torn. 



But oh ! that chain, though broke on earth, 

And one link riven, 
May it united firmly be 

Above in heaven. 



20 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SABLES. 



ANGEL WHISPERINGS. 

A pair and gentle child, with face upraised, 
Was listening to the whisperings of the wind ; 
And seemed, with ear intent, to catch some sound 
Of gentle music, as he murmured soft 
Into his mother's ear : 

"Do angels fair, 
My mother, visit earth ; and, though unseen 
By mortals, do they tell them, mother dear, 
Of that pure land where all the good shall go ?" 
" My child, .we know not if they roam this world ; 
For how can we, poor erring mortals, tell 
Of things unknown, unseen by human ken ? 
But sometimes have I thought that the pure breeze 
Of night was bearing on its wings the low 
And spirit voices of some angel band 
Of those fair ones, whom we did love and lose. 
And when to the deep moan and angry growl 
Of the conflicting tempest oft I list, 

And wild, strange thoughts come thronging through my brain, 
I fancy it a conflict 'tween the good 
And evil ones ; and then a shuddering will 
Course through my veins, as by the angry voice, 
The low, deep moan will almost be suppressed. 
But these are only fancies, boy." 
" But, mother, when I went beside the stream, 
And threw me down upon the soft green grass, 
A gentle sleep came o'er my wearied frame ; 
And while I slept, I dreamed a dream so true, 
I scarce could but believe it when I woke. 
It seemed to me I did not sleep at all ; 
And while I gazed upon the deep blue sky 



EDUCATION — EARLIEE COMPOSITIONS. 21 

I heard a sweet voice sing this little hymn, 
So simple that I did remember it : 

' Come with me, fair child, 

From the earth we'll roam, 
And seek above 

Our heavenly home. 
There's a happy land far away, sweet child, 

Where all is love ; 
There are bright and happy ones 

The sky above. 
This is no biding-place for thee 

'Mid sorrow's foam ; 
Come to that bright and happy land, 

Come home, come home.' 

And, mother, while the echo died along, 
There seemed a gush of music in the air, 
Like harps, so gentle was the sound." 
A cloud 
Came o'er that anxious mother's face, and while 
She kissed his fair and noble brow, her tears 
Came thick and fast. 

The cool, soft air of night 
Came whispering through the green leaves of a vine 
That peered into an open casement, where 
In restless sleep upon his bed he lay. 
The golden curls were parted o'er his brow 
Of marble whiteness, and a grave, sad look 
Rested upon his countenance. 
He woke ; and suddenly his aspect changed, 
A bright, sweet smile spread o'er his lovely face, 
As with his feeble voice he quickly said : 
" Oh, mother, listen to those voices sweet ! 
Singing those self-same words I loved so well. 



22 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

I come, sweet angels. Mother! we will meet 
And part no more. Farewell, farewell." 

The form is stiff. 
The little hands hang down ; the waxen brow 
Is cold — oh, chilling cold ! the eye so bright 
And cheerful once, is glazed in death. 
A gush of music filled the saddened room 
Of angel harpings, and celestial tones 
Murmured in concord soft, — 

"Above in heaven." 



THE ANGEL OF THE CLOUDS. 

" I have a happy task to perform," murmured the angel of the 
clouds, as he gazed down on the beautiful things of this earth. 
u Mortals heed me not, perchance they think not of me as a spirit, 
like the angels of leaves and flowers ; but often have I heard them 
thank my glorious Maker for the golden forms that hang so lov- 
iugly above them. When morn spreads her rosy wings and glad- 
dens the dew-decked land with a soft ruby light, what is it but the 
clouds I send that cast such a mellow shade over every object ? 
They flit before the king of day, and surround him with their 
forms of light and beauty. Who does not breathe a prayer to the 
Mighty One that guides their graceful motions ! 

At noon, when the summer's sun is high in the zenith, illumina- 
ting every object with his glare, and pouring down his scorching 
beams, oh, how my heart joys as I send a cloud to conceal his broad 
disc, thus to give pleasure to mortals ! They look upward and see 
its fleecy form which has cast such a delicious shadow over the 
landscape, and inwardly bless God for his goodness to men. Soft- 
ly, the gentle wind raises the wilted flowers, and softly it whispers 
to them that they are not doomed to so early a death. 



EDUCATION — EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 



23 



"When the king of day sinks low toward the horizon, and seems 
to woo his rest, then it is that the clouds hover around him like 
guardian angels. Softly they flit in the heavens, and seem as if 
gazing at their forms in the mirrored surface of the lake. But 
when the sun is setting, oh, what rapture thrills through me as I 
see my children made so glorious by his beams ! Eich folds of pur- 
ple intermingle with gorgeous crimson ; soft blue intervenes, with 
perhaps a shade of earth's own green. 

Not then do the clouds fill all with awe ; but it is when 1 fling 
them around the lofty summit of the snow-capped mountains, and 
when they appear soft and dream-like and so grand, that I have 
wondered at their power ; when the heavens are black with the 
coming tempest ; when the lightnings flash vividly amid their 
gloomy folds ; and the thunder roars and grumbles as they roll 
crashingly together. Then dark are they as the sorrows of mortals ; 
but the bright sun still shines behind, and they are dispelled, for 
they are of earth. 

When the moon rides peerless, queen of night, and the pale 
stars twinkle and glimmer in the sky, then I robe her pathway 
with soft clouds, and she paints them with her beams of silver." 

I was in Egypt when the plague of darkness brooded over the 
earth. It was at the command of Jehovah that I clothed the 
heavens with an impenetrable mass of clouds. No ray of light 
pierced their gloomy folds ; no cheering beam escaped ; all was 
dark as the depths of despair. I surrounded the Mighty One 
with clouds, and he became as a pillar of fire by night, and a 
bright, glorious cloud by day, and the Israelites gazed, and were 
wrapped in the silence of awe. 

My mission for Jehovah is to clothe the heavens with clouds, 
to give cooling showers to the earth, and to bless mortals with 
the gentle breeze. 

When the last trump shall sound, and the earth and sea shall 
give up their dead ; when the nations shall appear for judgment ; 
when the sun and moon shall give back their light ; when the 



24 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

heavens shall roll back as a scroll, and the Son of God shall descend 
robed in clouds of the bright effulgence of his glory — then shall 
my mission be ended, my task completed ; for there will be no 
clouds in the new heavens. 



THE ORPHAN'S SONG. 

Oh ! when ye hear my merry songs, 

And see my gladsome smile, 
Ye think not of the hidden grief 

That tortures me the while ; 
Ye know not that my heart is sad, 

That it bears many a woe ; 
Ye see not all the scalding tears 

As silently they flow. 

And when I sing my heart-strings seem 

As breaking to the strain, 
The songs were sung to me by those 

I ne'er shall see again ; 
My harp is all the friend I've left, 

Its tones seem sad and low ; 
And what to others seems of joy, 

To me is full of woe. 

It sounded sadly to mine ear 

The time my mother died, 
And at the death of each dear one 

A strain it always sighed, — 
So low and sad, so full of grief, 

I hushed my breath to hear, 
As if 'twas touched by angel bands 

That floated very near. 



EDUCATION — EARLIER COMPOSITIONS. 25 

It thrills not thus to other ones, 

But only to mine heart, 
And brings each stroke of sorrow back, 

That I will oft-tiines start 
And think of other days, and wish 

That I, like them, had gone ; 
For every recollection brings 

The thought, " I am alone." 



Alone ! alone ! no friend amoDg 

The cold and heartless crowd, 
Who at the merry songs I sing 

Will murmur long and loud ; 
Not one among the many forms 

That every day I see ! 
Ah, no ! a whisper comes from them : 

" There's none that cares for thee." 



But there is One, above this world, 

One great, who dwells on high ; 
And through whatever scenes we pass, 

He always will be nigh ; 
He is the Friend of every one, 

Why should I murmur then ? 
But ah ! my nature mourns for those 

I ne'er shall see again. 



Oh I often will my bosom swell, 
And the hot tears will start, 

And a heavy, heavy load seems placed 
Upon my bursting heart ; 



26 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

I can not hush its throbbings wild, 

I can not still a sigh, 
When I think of those I love so well, 

And the happy days gone by. 

And what am I ? A withered leaf 

Upon a blasted tree ; 
A single bark, that tosses high 

Amidst a stormy sea ; 
A solitary thing, that mars 

Amidst a flowery lea ; 
Oh, gracious Father, take me home, 

To dwell in heaven with thee ! ■ 



L. 



COMPOSITIONS— HUMOR. 27 



CHAPTER HI. 



COMPOSITIONS-HUMOR. 



If not already , in the further reading it will be 
observed that some of these lines are tinged with 
sadness, and plaintive strains seem specially con- 
genial. There was nothing, however, of the sombre 
in her temperament. Cheerfulness of spirit was al- 
most inseparable from her, and humor entered largely 
into her own composition. Her early associates would 
hardly recognize her in a book where something of 
this species of writing did not appear. Nor, without 
some selections of the humorous, could others so well 
understand the influence of grace in sweetly subor- 
dinating every power and passion to Christ. A few 
specimens shall form the present chapter. 

RESEMBLANCE. 

Was there ever anybody who did not look like somebody else ? 
It is not strauge that different persons resemble each other ; for 
we all descended from the same common parents. " I wonder if 
Adam and Eve looked alike !" exclaimed a little girl ; and simple 
as is the thought, it has often entered young heads. In the coun- 
try, where strange faces are rare, the exclamation will often burst 



28 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SABLES. 



forth from some good old dame : " La, gracious ! why Sally, did 
you ever see anybody look so much like 'Melia Hannah ?" " Why 
no, mother, she doesn't look like her ; she is the image of Susan 
Augusta !" 

In the country, the land of wonderments and surmises, of talking 
and gossiping, lived my Aunt Patty and Uncle Benjamin. A 
good old couple were they. But aunty had one fault, — she 
was forever finding strange similitudes between different faces. 
As my good uncle said : " Patty finds every duck and chicken in 
the poultry-yard to look like somebody." As she was a little 
near-sighted, she would put on her " specs," and gaze at strange 
faces, with a sort of inquisitive look, as though she could read 
their history. I shall not tell of her numberless exclamations, or 
what a disagreeable surprise she met with one day when she went 
to visit a friend, and my mischievous brother had taken the little 
Willie out of the cradle, and put a monstrous animal of the feline 
species in his stead. Aunt Patty, good old soul, as she gazed on 
what she considered the " little dear," broke forth in " I always 
said by the time he was six months old he would look like his 
father— his eyes exactly— the sweet, little darling !" In her haste 
to take the petit amour, she received a long, deep scratch on her 
hand. And then uncle laughed, and we all laughed. No ; I will 
not tell all this, and expose her deficiencies j for, poor old lady, 
she is dead now, and in the land of spirits. But I will tell how 
she mortified a young gentleman one day. We had gone to the 
village, aunty and I, and when we arrived there, numerous were 
her exclamations as to the different faces she saw. At last this 
young gentleman, with white kids, cane, etc., approached us and 
stared at us, as though he had just opened his eyes. " Why," 
exclaimed Aunt Patty ; " Why, Jannette! did you ever see any- 
body look so much like our old Muscovy duck ?" Ah, the poor 
dandy.! As a peacock suddenly spying his feet, so was the lugubri- 
ous visage of the dandy, and he was soon out of sight. As for me, 
I could not help laughing at Aunt Patty's face, so sober-looking 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 



29 



was it, and as if she would say : " What are you laughing about, 
Jannette ?" 

It is strange, but if you notice it, different persons resemble 
different animals and birds. The dandy came under the class of 
birds. There is the long, bony face, protruding eyes, mouth very 
large, many wrinkles, and high bald forehead, resembling a horse. 
The round face, large fierce-looking eyes, nose very aquiline, small 
compressed mouth, which looks like an owl. There are the sharp 
miserly looks of the rat ; the shrinking, mean expression of the 
fox ; the shallow, stupid, apish face ; the fierce looks of the lion ; 
and the little, deep, sunken eyes and mischievous expression of the 
monkey, — all causing rather an unpleasant feeling to come over 
one, as he thinks how near he is allied in resemblance to the brute 
creation. 



CURIOSITY. 

The ruling passion of Eve's daughters fair 

Is curiosity. Man takes his share 

In its researches ; but it must be confessed, 

That with fair woman, this bright plant thrives best. 

E'er since the days of common mother Eve, — 

E'er since the wily serpent did deceive, 

And give a bright description of the fruit 

Which raised her curious feelings, to her hurt, — 

E'er since, the mind of each her daughters fair 

Has been disturbed by every small affair, 

And full of trouble are their anxious hearts 

Until they've solved each problem's several parts. 

Go in the country : there the pedigree 
Of every one (by curiosity) 
Is surely found ; and maidens old discuss 
Over their tea, of every trifling fuss 



30 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



That's in their pretty little native town ; — 

How " Such-an-one has married Mr. Brown ; 

They don't know much about him, but they think 

That she had best kept single, and not link 

Her fortunes thus, — they do not like to say 

Of much about him, but — they "if" away, 

As if 'twas shocking ; and as some one sips 

Her tea, she sighs, — then, drawing down her lips, 

She says : "Oh, dear, 'tis dreadful, I declare ! 

That Lucy should be sent by Mr. Share 

To boarding school ; she'll surely ruined be, 

Now mark my words — we'll see what we shall see !" 

Then some one else has taken a long breath, 

To give the sad particulars of the death 

Of Colonel Smith, and says : " What will become 

Of his proud daughters, for I hear their home 

Is to be sold ? To-morrow I will go 

Just over there, and see if it is so." 

And in the city you are sure to meet 

With this same quality, within each street, 

On every countenance 'tis painted fair, 

And every person has his little share. 

If there by chance a penny all so coy 

Spin from the fingers of a beggar boy, 

And drop into the gutter ; if he cry, 

If he search for it, straight to him there hie 

Some dozen boys or more : " Oh ! never mind," 

They say, " your penny for you we will find !" 

And then they look around. They being seen, 

Forth are collected many more, I ween ; 

And then a crowd's assembled, many say : 

« What is the matter ?" " Who is dead, I pray ?" 

" Who's lost his equilibrium to-day ?" 






COMPOSITIONS— HUMOR. 



31 



They press with upraised heads and opened eyes, 

Which makes them seem as though they're wondrous wise ; 

They press so hard to see what is the matter 

That those within, hearing behind the chatter, 

Strive to get out ; but this can not be done 

And stay they have to, standing in the sun. 

And e'en in church there's many you will find 
With troubled faces and a troubled mind ; 
For they can not divine what 'tis about 
That Dr. Such-an-one was then called out ; 
Why Mrs. What's-her-name that bonnet wears ; 
Why Deacon Smith's face is so full of cares. 
No sentence of the sermon have they heard, 
They say : " He spoke so low, we caught no word." 

But this same quality to us was lent, 

Not in such foolish uses to be spent ; 

Heaven gave this plant and caused it thus to grow, 

That we might have ambition ; we might know, 

Of science, and of hidden things of lore, 

Hid as in earth the gold and silver are. 

'Tis this the chemist's lamp of midnight light ; 

'Tis this assists astronomy's airy flight ; 

'Tis this inspires the antiquary's breast ; 

'Tis this which gives to every theme a zest. 

Oh ! blessed art thou ! Blessed shalt thou be, 

When rightly used ! Oh, Curiosity ! 



HOW TO BE KNOWN.— NO. 1. 

Fair ladies, listen while I tell to thee 
The way you famous or renowned may be. 



32 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



First, if you go to church, go late ; and take a seat 

Far up the middle aisle, where you may meet 

The eyes of all, and then begin to talk, 

Because you're more composed than when you walk. 

Be sure and get behind some deacon old 

Who has the reputation of a scold. 

If he reprove, your independence still is shown 

By talking on until your theme is done. 

Next, when at school, a scarlet dress you'll wear, 

And in some new fantastic style, your hair ; 

And if you would so most attractive look, 

Wear baskets in your ears, suspended by a hook. 

Next, never know your lessons. Always glance 

At all the rings on your and others' hands. 

A little shake do always give your head 

When your turn comes, it looks so very well bred, 

And appears so simple and unaffected. 

When you go out, be sure your hat to wear 

Quite off your head, that all your glossy hair 

May be regarded ; but to have a care 

That people will regard you, at them stare, 

With head upraised, and an important air. 

And laugh out loud, if any one is seen 

Who is too short, too tall, or looks too mean. 

This is the height of manners, as y^u know ; 

For if 'twas not, I could have told you so. 

Next, go to all the parties, balls, soirees, 

Assemblies, meetings, companies, 

And take an active part where'er you're shown ; 

And if by all the world you're not well known, 

I'll ne'er advise you more. So take this task 

And profit by it ; this is all I ask. 






HOW TO BE KNOWN.— NO. 2. 

Another lesson ladies will be taught, 

And if you profit by it as you ought, 

You ne'er will go a shopping ; but you'll own 

That much of wisdom, by us, you were shown. 

First ; be determined that no thing will suit 

At avy other store than famous Stewart's bought. 

Bat that your eyes with colors you may please, 

You visit all the Brooklyn stores (at ease). 

The trouble that is given, you must not mind ; 

The gentlemen are placed all stiff behind 

The counter just on you to wait, 

And you must look around with pompous state. 

Perhaps for shawls or dresses now you seek ; 

If so, the obliging clerk, with face all meek, 

Takes down some patterns that he thinks will please, 

Stands on a chair, or gets down on his knees. 

It is your duty not to mind his care, 

But to dislike all pieces, till his share 

Of goods is all exhausted ; then you'll laugh 

A little scornfully, and say : " This all you have ?" 

But end not thus. To Stewart's go with haste ; 

For be you sure 'tis the great mart of taste. 

The gentlemen for you will overturn 

Some dozen shawls ; and soon the price you learn. 

Then say out loudly : " These are very dear ; 

They're not as good a3 we have seen sold here." 

In vain the clerks will tell you all the while, 

(As in their sleeves they merrily do smile,) 

" That these are positively shawls most fine." 

You ask the price again ; they tell you, " nine." 

Now ope your eyes, and say with gentle laugh : 

" Nine dollars, dear! I'll give you eight and half." 



34 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

The clerks politely say : " We have one price ; 

No deviation from it." " Oh ! that's very nice," 

You murmur ; " Well, we are not suited now \" 

And out you go without one parting bow. 

In all the stores of Broadway next you go, 

Be sure you make them each thing show. 

Do not be suited till you see 

Something that suits your fancy to a nicety. 

But now it needs " considering ;" you go home, 

And in a day or two, with others, come 

And view the shawls till all are quite tired out ; 

Then you can take one, for you " know what you're about." 

You're confident that they are " the right kind," 

Because about it : " You've made up your mind." 



MUSQUXTOES. 
A Paeody on the Watcheb. 

The night is warm and sultry, 

No grateful breeze sweeps by ; 
But surely all musquitodom 

Into my chamber hie ; 
I rise and wistfully I gaze, 

The moon is hid to-night ; 
And, dear, how I am bothered ! 

My matches will not light. 

I might as well sit down and wait, 
While darkness has its reign ; 

For rest I can not hope to have 
Till they are each one slain ; 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 



35 



Their death alone can free me, 
I feel that this must be. 

But oh ! I have no candle ; 
Alas ! unhappy me. 

Full many lights are glancing 

Across our darksome street ; 
The lady has a soiree, 

And gayly trip the feet ; 
Oh ! young and joyous creatures, 

But one small glimmering light 
Would show me my tormentors, 

And teach them not to bite ! 

The morning sun is shining, 

She heedeth not its ray ; 
For fast asleep she lieth, 

Amid the blaze of day ; 
A frown is on her forehead, 

And red spots on each cheek, 
Which tell that night of agony 

More than all words can speak. 



TO A BACHELOR. 

Poor aged bachelor, 

How sad you look, 
Beading so listlessly 

Out of that book ! 
Dear ! round your room, kind sir, 

All things are strewn ; 



36 



MEMORIAL OP MAEY E. SARLES. 



How desolation, sir, 

Shrieks : " You're alone 1" 
No gentle woman's smiles 

Gladden you now ; 
No gentle woman's hand 

Soothes your hot brow. 
None but your coachman, sir, 

Opens your door ; 
None but your porter, sir, 

Sweeps up your floor. 
Who'd be a bachelor, 

Lonely and sad ; 
Cross and so crabbed like, 

E'en almost mad ? 
Give up your singleness, 

Get you a wife ; 
Then you'll live happily 

All of your life. 



A DITTY OF NEW YORK CITY. 



Lady in moire antique, 

Flowers, and furs, 
Sonnet whose feathers 

That every wind stirs. 
Lift from the mirrored past 

Curtains of gold, 
See thyself as thou wast, 

In days of old. 
There thy good father sits, 

Cobbling shoes, 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 



37 



Or with green spectacles 

Reading the news. 
There sits your mother, now ; 

Sewing away, 
Talking at interims ; 

Where are you, pray ? 
List ! she speaks earnestly. 

" Husband, my dear, 
Sally's been dress-making 

Nearly one year. 
Thomas, our neighbor's son, 

Loves her, we know ; 
She has some money saved, 

Let them get married. 

For long time they've tarried. 

" Thomas is a nice young man, 

Toils hard all day ; 
Excellent tailor, 

So they all say, 
And if Sally loves him, 

And he loves her too, 
"Why, I've no objections." 

(This Sally is you.) 



Look, the scene changes, — 

A bride and a groom, 
A minister reading, 

A plain little room. 
Some cake on a table, 

Some wine and some beer 
Good folks all attention, 

The service to hear. 



38 MEMORIAL OP MAEY E. SARLES. 

The bride, with her blushes, 

Looks timidly down, 
Alternately paling, 

As white as her gown. 
A smile plays with tears 

In her eyes, dark and blue, 
As doth in the violet, 

Sunshine in dew. 
While Thomas, the bridegroom, 

With wild beating heart, 
Repeateth the words : 

" Till death dotii us part" 



Lady in moire antique 

Canst thou forget 
Thy humble housekeeping, — 

Thouthink'st of it yet? 
One pleasant room you had — 

Clean little room, 
Swept every morning 

With dust-pan and broom. 
Tour husband sang merrily, 

Sitting all day, 
Sewing and stitching 

The hours away. 
Glimpses of flowers 

He saw through the door, 
White window curtains, 

A clean polished floor. 
This was the kitchen, 

Parlor, and hall, 
This, your reception-room, 

When you'd a call. 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 39 

Lady in moire antique, 

Oh, what a pity ! 
That your husband is rich now 

And lives in the city. 
That you have a stone house 

In a fashionable street, 
And seldom or ever 

You use your small feet. 
That a coachman stands ready 

To answer your call, 
And a carriage is waiting 

With footman and all. 
That your daughter is dressed 

On an elegant plan ; 
That your eldest son, Tom, 

Is a traveled young man. 
That your husband, the tailor, 

Has grown stout and grand, — 
With wealth in his pocket, 

Owns houses and land. 
That your husband, the tailor, 

Who worked hard all day, 
Has a clothing establishment, 

Up in Broadway. 
For are you more happy ? 

Ah, no ! hours come 
When you sigh for the joys 

Of your plain cottage home. 
One hour of comfort, 

As those were of old, 
Is worth all your feathers — 

Is worth all your gold, 



40 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



YOUNG LADYISM— THE NERVOUS YOUNG LADY. 

Scene First. 

" Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! oh, dear !" shrieked a feminine voice ! 
and the whole household ran to see what could be the matter. 
Meanwhile the screams grew fainter, until Biddy the kitchen- 
maid rushed into the room, followed by the mother, children, and 
lap-dog ; and there was Miss Ophelia Jane Stubbs, with her eyes 
open, her mouth ditto, and her handkerchief bedewed with pearly 
drops. " What's the matter?" said Mrs. Stubbs, and the children, 
and Biddy, in the same breath ; the lap-dog barking through 
sympathy. 

" Oh ! that horrible spider ! That dreadful creature ! oh ! oh ! 
oh-h-h dear !" shrieked the young lady. " Well, what of the 
spider ?" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs, impatiently. " Oh, mother ! 
dear mother ! the awful creature dropped right on my hand ! r ' 
" Another of your paroxysms of foolishness !" exclaimed Mrs. 
Stubbs ; and looking cross at Ophelia Jane, marched out of the 
room, followed by Biddy, the children, and the lap-dog ; and 
giving the door a pull, which sounded all over the house. 

Scene Second. 

" I know my lesson, I am sure ; yes, I am sure ; but Mr. Smith 
asks questions so quickly, that I can not collect my thoughts." 
So Miss Ophelia gets what may be called the class ague. 

The first symptoms of this distressing disease are : frequent 
glancings at the analysis during the recitation, and numerous sighs. 
Second stage : tremor as the question approaches her name, 
confused thoughts, etc. Third : a universal tremor seizes her (on 
mentioning her name), which concentrates all at once in her 
head, and it shakes as if palsy stricken. The best remedy is to 
take four grains of study, mixed with equal weight of application 
and perseverance. Had she taken this, no doubt she would have 
been instantly cured, and miraculously. 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 



41 



Scene Third. 

"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Miss Stubbs, "are we on the 
ferry-boat. John, do take care of those horses ; for father says 
they are the most lively horses in the world ! Mr. Jenkins, let 
me take hold of your hand, for I am so afraid of an accident. 
Oh, mother ! you don't say we are the first ones on board of the 
boat ! Oh ! I am so afraid, and sure we shall be killed ! I am 
sure those horses will leap the chain, and we shall all be drowned ! 

I ." " Ophelia, do hush ;" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs. " You 

are just like the raven ; always a bird of ill omen. I am ashamed 
of you. You can not speak one word without making persons. 
feel unhappy. Don't say anything if you can not speak some- 
thing pleasant." So Miss Ophelia was very silent until they ar- 
rived on Broadway ; then her feelings could not be controlled. 

" Are we surely in Broadway ? What shall we do ? Oh ! these 
omnibuses ! There are so many accidents in Broadway. Didn't 
you read of that one the other day, Mr. Jenkins ?" 

"•No, Miss Ophelia ; I did not." " Well, I think it was in 
this very place that it happened. Oh, John, do hold those 
horses tight ; do John ! Why, Mr. Jenkins, only think, as I was 
saying, in this very place, an omnibus came in collision with a 
carriage, and the horses ran away, and — but they caught the 
horses at the end of the park ; but only think, mother, if these 
horses were to take fright ! Just see how wild Jack looks ! Do 
stop, and let me get out. I don't want to be killed, if you do." 

In this manner Miss Ophelia regaled her auditors until they 
arrived at their journey's end. 

Coming back it was very dark, and they happened to be the 
last ones on the boat. " Dear me, how dark it is ! Oh, mother !" 
exclaimed Ophelia, starting up, "the last ones on the boat! If 
those carriages in front should back, or the boat reel, dear me, 
we'd be lost — lost ! Didn't you hear of that cow that jumped in 
the river, mother ?" 

" Ophelia, please be still. I desire it I" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs, 



42 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



authoritatively ; and having arrived at the other side, the young 
lady was silent. 

Miss Ophelia, as she grew older, grew more nervous ; screamed 
in company when she thought proper ; fainted regularly when she 
went to a party ; cried when she went to the opera, and was in a 
great state of excitement lest it should take fire ; and like a 
young lady of our acquaintance, fainted at the odor of artificial 
flowers. She lived in a perpetual state of excitement, for fear the 
walls of the house would tumble down, the steamboat boiler blow 
up, or the cars run off the track ; and yet, strange to say, she was 
always putting herself in the way of these fearful catastrophes. 
She seemed to take great pleasure in harrowing up her own feelings 
and those of others by fearful stories related in the moment of the 
greatest danger. 

Mr. Jenkins was very much attracted by her beauty, but on 
one occasion, happening to see her faint when her little sister 
was scratched by the kitten, he concluded to seek some one better 
fitted for the realities of life. 

Miss Ophelia lives now, that most uncomfortable of all charac- 
ters, a nervous old maid ! Being past the age of swooning, she 
exists in a perpetual horror of thunder-storms and children. 



LINES TO A LITTLE DOG, SEEN IN THE UPPER HALLS OF 
THE BROOKLYN ACADEMY. 

Why comest thou here, oh, little dog, 

Inhabitant of the street ? 
Why hast thou such a wistful look ? 

We've nothing here to eat. 

No dogmatism here is shown ; 

No stated dogmas taught ; 
And dogging compositions all, 

The things requiring thought. 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 43 

None of your race were ever known 

As pupils in these halls ; 
None even in the dog-days found 

Within these classic walls. 

Then why art thou, oh, little dog, 

Within our halls, so wise ? 
Why glancest thou so piteously 

Into rny wondering eyes ? 

Perhaps for dog's ears thou dost seek ; 

In school-girls' tidy books, 
Wherein to pour thy miseries ; 

I see it in thy looks. 

Then run away, thou little dog, 

Or thou shalt surely tell, 
Of all thy visitations yet, 

The worst -was doggerel. 



STORY AND REVIEW OF "JACK AND GILL WENT UP THE HILL 
TO FETCH A PAIL OF WATER,"' Etc. 

Happy was the family living by the banks of a pellucid, mean- 
dering stream. It was composed of a mother and two earthly 
cherubs, who lived unknowing and unknown. The house was 
situated at the foot of a beautiful hill, on which the verdant grass 
sprouted, and the little flowers lifted their heads. Every day the 
mother sent her little darlings to the well, — which, strange to say, 
was on the summit of the hill, instead of at the bottom, — " to fetch 
a pail of water," as the poet beautifully expresses it. But such 
happiness is not long for this earth. People grow old, and springs 



44 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

dry up. Alas ! a cloud was to come over the suDlight of their 
happiness. 

Three long years had passed away and still the well had not 
failed, nor had they in their devotion to it ; for every day one 
might see a tall,light-complexioned lassie walking up the hill, and 
a graceful young boy by her side carrying a little pail. What 
kind of a pail it was, I can not say. Whether it was tin or wood, 
brass or iron, I do not know. But this I do know, that it was a 
pail, for the poet says so, — " to fetch a pail of water." 

One day, and long has it been remembered, this happy couple 
with their usual light-hearted ness, wended their way up the hill ; 
and, having arrived at the well, stooped down and filled the pail 
with its limpid water. Then, stopping to gaze at their reflected 
images, they turned about and pursued their way homeward. 
But, alas ! an unforeseen accident. While Jack was gazing at the 
blue sky, and wondering why the stars did not shine in the day- 
time, — being unconscious of anything around him, — his foot trip- 
ped, his pail fell, and he was precipitated to the earth, fracturing 
the cerebellum, which caused a contraction of the medulla oblon- 
gata, by which his skull was injured, or, in the words of the poet, 
— " broke his crown." But this was not all. No sooner did Gill 
see the fall of her beloved brother, than she — but the poet is rather 
obscure on this point, he mentions merely, " Gill came tumbling 
after." Now it is almost impossible for us to tell what caused 
this fall. Perhaps her foot caught in the pail ; perhaps she be- 
came dizzy ; but we are led to suppose that she fell merely through 
sympathy, — for woman is the most sympathizing creature in the 
world. She weeps when others weep, she laughs when others 
laugh, she applauds when others applaud ; and why not tumble 
down when others do ? 

The beautiful legend from which this story was taken may be 
found in the productions of Mother Goose, a lady of the olden time, 
whose volume of poems is so much prized that it may be seen in 
every library. In description, no one is her equal. 



COMPOSITIONS — HUMOR. 



45 



Many important lessons of wisdom can be drawn from them, 
as in the beautiful legend we have been contemplating. It en- 
forces upon us the uncertainty of all earthly hopes. It conveys, 
also, a particular lesson to politicians, that, when on the line of 
descent, they must not gaze higher than when on the pinnacle of 
glory. They must remember that it is always safer, if not easier, 
to climb up a height, than to descend it with dignity. 

We may also draw from it another important lesson, — that 
the well of knowledge is situated on the top of a hill, and we, 
like Jack and Gill, must toil upward until we reach its limpid 
waters. To turn our backs upon it, is not only to run the risk of 
tumbling down and losing what we have gained, but also of seri- 
ous injury to the cranium itself. And so we might continue to 
show its beauties, if time would permit. We commend the pe- 
rusal of this charming volume to all our readers. 



ELSIE GRAY. 

Blithe Elsie Grey, sweet Elsie Grey, 

In sunny days, in cloudy weather, 
We wandered widely, she and I, 

O'er hill and dale together. 
She was a little maiden then, — 
A laughing, coyish girl of ten, 

And I but few years older ; 
Youth's love they tell me, warmer grows, 

But ours, alas ! grew colder. 



Each summer's sun that kissed her hair, 
Its golden radiance brightened, 

And the rich carmine of her cheek 
Each gliding season heightened. 



46 m MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

It seemed the brilliant hue was caught 
From autumn leaves, while the deep thought 

Gleamed from her eye unbidden. 
This was the face within my heart, 

That I for years had hidden. 

Those halcyon days have passed away, 

And fled my dreams elysian, 
Yet often gaze I in the past, 

On the remembered vision. 
I gaze, and wonder as I gaze, 
How I could, e'en in by-gone days, 

Have loved this portly woman ; 
For Elsie, now, is Mrs. Jones — 

She's porty and quite human. 

Her forehead wears a band of care, 

Her eye has lost its brightness, 
The rose from lip and cheek has fled, 

Her step has now no lightness ; 
And though she wears her gems and gold, 
They glitter o'er a heart, I'm told, 

That feels a constant aching, 
That she has bartered love for gold, 

'Tis this the heart is breaking. 

And often do I sit and dream 

Of days long since departed, 
Till my gold spectacles are wet 

With tears the thoughts have started. 
For well I know a sunny smile 
Would all my weariness beguile, 

With her I'd not be lonely. 
Ah, me ! the poor old bachelor, 

Still clings to her — " her only." 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 



47 



CHAPTER IV. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS— POETIC. 

This larger selection covers the last two and a half 
years at the Academy, and is arranged without any 
reference to order of time. 

FIRST HYMN SUNG AT THE ACADEMY'S COMMENCEMENT, 1850. 
To our lives one year is added, 

Time with us has hastened on ; 
And with joy and sorrow mingled, 

Think we of the past and gone. 
Thou hast blest us, our Father, 

Through its quickly fleeting hours ; 
And to thee our praise ascendeth, 

As the fragrance after showers. 

From our wreath one bud has fallen, 

One link broken from our chain ; 
But we know the " pure in spirit " 

See thee, and may meet again.* : 
Thus, Father, bless thy children ; 

May that heart to each be given, 
That when we from earth are summoned, 

We, redeemed, may rise to heaven. 

* There has been one death in the Institution during the past year. " Blessed 
are the pure in heart, for they shall see God," -was the motto selected for her copy- 
book by this pupil, only the week previous to her decease. 



48 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



J30LIAN STRAINS. 

Fitfully around my dwelling 
Sighs the night-wind, ever swelling, 
With a dreamy, wild commotion, 
Like the surging of the ocean 

Dashing up against the shore. 
Listen to its mournful sighing, 
Swelling loud and then low dying ; 
While the forest monarchs hoary 
Bend and listen to the story 

They have heard for evermore. 
Not the wind, my soul is hearing, — 
Strains those seem of organ rearing, 

All unseen from earth to heaven. 
Spiritual hands are playing — 
O'er the shadowy keys are straying 

Fingers of the blessed dead. 
And the music, grand and thrilling, 
Which my inmost soul is filling, — 
Requiems are for just and holy, 
Who on earth loved Christ the lowly. 
Requiems, too, for unforgiven, 
Who, when life's frail cord was riven, 

Unprepared with shriekings fled. 

Mournful now the strains are swelling, 
Of a beauteous maiden telling, 
Who hath left this world of sadness, — 
Early entered one of gladness. 
List ! It hymneth of a flower 
Nipped in one short fleeting hour ; — 
How to earth this bud was given. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 49 

Then the strains are swelling higher, 
As if all the angel choir 
Sung : " The flower blooms in heaven." 

Dies away that joyous pealing, 
And forebodings o'er me stealing 

Make me clasp my hands with fear. 
" "What are these unearthly moanings ?" 
Utter I ; " these dismal groanings ; 

Tell me, what are these I hear ?" 
Saith a voice : " This mournful wailing, 
Which thy cheek with fear is paling, 
Is a requiem for a spirit 
Who his doom doth justly merit." 
Then, while silently I listen, 
Tears upon my eyelids glisten ; 
For, like breeze through forest straying, 
Seems it mighty crowds are saying 

With one mournful, solemn breath : 
" Let them not despise thy Spirit, 
Let them not his doom inherit ; 
But through Jesus' precious merit 

Keep them from the second death." 

So these strains are ever swelling 
Mournfully around my dwelling ; 
For the doomed and for the holy, 
Touth and age, — the high, the lowly, — 

Ever swells a solemn strain ; 
While the billows of the ocean, 
And the wood with waving motion, 

Sendeth back the sound again. 



50 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



THE VICTIM OF THE BASTILLE. 
Within a dungeon dark aad drear, 

A prisoned captive lay, — 
A dismal place deep under ground, 

Where the glad light of day 
Ne'er came to bless or glad the sight ; 
But silence reigned and chilling night. 

Full many years had passed away 

With solemn, noiseless tread, 
Since he, that lone imprisoned one, 

Had lived as with the dead. 
The echo of his thoughts he heard, 
And feared to answer word for word. 

He knew not why he entered there, 

All inquiry was vain, — 
With saddened tone and troubled heart 

He'd asked again, again, 
The question of his jailers grim, 
But they would speak no word to him. 

And now his aching head was bowed, 

And the hot tears fell fast, 
As busy memory carried him 

Far back through years long past, — 
He felt again his mother's kiss, 
And her soft hand pressed close to his. 

" Alas ! my mother," thus he cried ; 

" I see thee but in dreams, 
And often in this dungeon drear 

Thy gentle visage gleams, 
To bless me ; and I try to clasp, 
But thou dost vanish from my grasp. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 51 

" Acid oft I hear my sister sing 

The song I loved so well, 
But ever from that gladsome strain 

Low solemn murmurs swell ; 
As if a requiem were sung 
For them, the beautiful, the young. 

" I know I am an aged man, 

For many, many years 
Have passed since I, a vigorous youth, 

First entered here in tears ; 
My home, around which flowers bloom, 
Changed for this living, loathsome tomb." 

But hark ! A joyous shout is heard 

Along the passage drear, 
And bolts are drawn, and locks are broke ; 

He sinks down in his fear, 
And gazes through the darkness deep 
With bloodshot eyes, that can not weep. 

But hark ! That shout is at his door, 

A shout of victory, — 
And red lights gleam ; and anxious eyes 

Are peering in to see 
That old man, with long gray hair, 
Crouched like a lion on his lair. 

" Thou'rt free ! Thou'rt free 1" they gladly cry, 

As quick his form they raise, 
And hurry with that fainting one 

Far up the cold stairways, 
The same that he, with many more, 
Had trod so many years before. 



52 



MEMORIAL OF MART E. SARLES. 



With joyous step they hurry him, 

Until the light of day 
Bursts on his face ; then, with a start, 

He breaks from all away, 
And gazes, with a strange, wild stare, 
On all the crowd collected there. 

There were the old, bent down with years, — 
The young, with wild, strange eye, — 

Who anxiously gazed on the man, 
And wondered at his sigh ; 

While far above this living sea 

Arose a shout of victory ! 

" We're free ! We're free !" arose the shout 

From many voices now ; 
" Free ! Free !" exclaimed the care-worn man, 

And pressed his throbbing brow ; 
" While goes round the greeting tone, 
I stand amid this crowd alone : — 

" I have no friends," thus murmurs he ; 

" Oh, take me back again ! 
For in that cold, dim solitude 

Some vestige would remain 
Of her, my mother — her I loved ; 

Of those, my sisters twain ! 
Oh, take me back, for they are dead ; 
I have no place to rest my head !" 

And then his grief-worn face grew white, 

He sunk upon the ground ; 
And when they went to raise him up, 

No answering pulse was found. 
He'd gone to those he wished to see, 
With them he was forever free ! 






LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 53 

" LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR DEAD." 
Forth came a misty, silent throng, 

From out the church-yard drear, 
Such as would make the stout man's heart 

Quake with a sudden fear. 
All dimly they came, the forms once loved 

Of the beautiful, the proud, 
With the glare of their horrible sightless eyes, 

And each in his burial shroud. 
And some were there, the skeleton ones, 

With white and rattling bones, 
But they rose in silence out of the earth 

From under their epitaph stones. 
And it seemed as if, in low, deep tones, 

Each spectral figure said : 
« We go to bury the dead to-night, — 

1 Let the dead bury their dead.' " 
Lo ! see the sallow moonbeams shine 

On the skeleton and shade. 
They are standing there 'mid the old gray stones 

By the deep grave they have made ; 
And they lay "neath the earth a body of flesh, 

While their forms are at foot and head, 
As the moon sheds down her sallow beams 

On the cold face of the dead ; 
Then the strange words came again from the chant, 

And the night wind bore them along, — 
" ' We bury the dead,' henceforth he joins 
Our revels and our song." 

Then they covered the grave with moss and leaves, 

In those dreary, solemn hours ; 
"For," they said, " the dead are soon forgot, — 

No friend will brin£ us flowers." 



54 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



They vanished away, for morning had come, 

And I glanced in silent dread ; 
For naught could I see but moss-grown stones 

On the houses of the dead. 

Lo ! asleep I had been in the old kirk-yard, 

With my head on an old gray stone ; 
For I'd wandered there that autumn day, 

'Mongst its noble trees alone. 
There I sat and read in Holy Writ 

Of the words our Christ once said : 
" Thou shalt surely follow me, 

Let the dead bury their dead." 
In fancy's eye I saw the shade forms 

Of those skeletons so grim, 
And I dreamed I heard each voice low chant 

That dirge-like, solemn hymn. 
But though a dream, I know not why, 

As if a voice had said, — 
Forever that dirge, with low, deep sound, 

Like the measured tolling of a bell, 

Saith : " Let the dead bury their dead !" 






LAST ODE SUNG AT THE COMMENCEMENT, 1851. 

The summer cloud that floated 

Across the azure sky ; 
The flower that opened gently, 

And seemed too fair to die ; 
The dew that sparkled brightly 

In morning's cheerful light ; 
Have vanished in their beauty, 

Forever from our sight. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 



55 



And yet we well remember 

The grateful shadow thrown ; 
And still a pleasant odor 

From that dead flower is blown. 
The vanished tear of evening 

Lives in the brighter hue ; 
And as the flowers open, 

They bless the gentle dew. 

So may we give the weary 

A soft and tender shade ; 
So may we leave a perfume 

Like that the flower has made ; 
So may our memories linger 

In acts which still are seen ; 
E'en as the dew-drop iiveth 

Within the brighter green ! 



MY DREAM. 

A lovely dream there came the other night, 

And filled my heart with quiet, placid joy : 

I thought a waving forest circled me, — 

The oak, the monarch of the wood, was there, 

The graceful elm, the lofty moaning pine, 

The poplar, and the beach, and many more, 

Too numerous to name them one by one. 

Sweet streams were gushing through the soft green grass, 

And blue-eyed violets raised their tiny heads 

To catch the cheering beams of the warm sun. 

In that sweet flower I fancied I could see 

The one who loved the swain, and died of grief 

Because he loved her not ; and whom kind Jove 



56 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Did change into this flower, which still uplifts 

Its gentle eye to gaze upon his face. 

The moss was spangled o'er with tiny stars, 

Bright little gems, of a pale yellow hue, 

Which close their dewy eyes when noon comes on. 

I thought of the great One who made them all 

For us his children. 

Then I heard a sweet voice sing 
A low and gentle strain, and words like these : 

" Bright angels hover 

Around thy path, 
And a sweet mission 

Every one hath : — 
Some to strew flowers 

Of peace in thy way ; 
Some to protect thee 

In the night shadows gray ; 
Some to afflict thee, 

But 'tis for thy good, 
For the Father Almighty 

Hath decreed they should. 
Oh ! if thou lovest 

God's only Son, 
Angels shall bear thee 

Up to his throne." 

The voice then ceased, and I in wonder thought 
How true these words did seem ; for angels bright 
Do hover round to keep us from all harm. 
It was a glorious dream, and left upon 
My soul a placid, calm, and gentle joy. 



LATEE SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 57 



LINES. 

There is no heart but Lath at times sad feeling, 
Which follows closely as the human shadow ; 
None are exempt from this, the high, the low, 
Alike have sorrow in their bosoms stealing, 
E'en as the funeral bell forever pealing. 

We hear the laugh and joyous bursts of pleasure ; 
But still, how oft a fair exterior 
Covers a fruit decayed at the core ! 

How oft some glittering tinsel seems a treasure ! 

And so we can not tell of happiness the measure. 



How many who, amid the worldly throng 
Are gay when sparkles wine and costly gem, 
When many wish that they may be like them ! 
But still their laughter dieth with their song, 
And when they are alone they weep the hours along. 

And, too, how often, when we try to sing, 
A choking sob will come and hush the voice, 
And tell us of the past time's vanished joys ! 
Just so the wounded robin tries its wing, 
But sinks exhausted down, no strength can bring. 



Yet, why should we be thus oppressed with woe ? 
Why should a laugh be oftentimes the guise 
To hide the grief within, which ever cries 
With a loud voice ? It is to make us know 
That happiness ne'er dwelleth here below. 
3* 



58 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



SNOW. 

Softly now the still snow falleth, 

Wrapping earth in white ; 
Hiding every tiny flower, 

Every leaf, from sight ; 
Making on the lowly cottage 

Snowy roofing bright. 

'Mong the leafless forest monarchs 

Comes it silent down ; 
Glittering on the topmost branches, 

Like a diamond crown ; 
Wrapping in its snowy mantle 

All their branches brown. 

Now from out the village school-house 

Kun the gladsome boys ; 
How each eye with brightness glistens ! 

How each bosom joys ! 
For a treasure seemeth snowballs 

More than books or toys. 

Now the prints of feet are falling 

Faster than the snow, 
As the merry youths and maidens 

Here and thither go ; 
Little heeding freezing fingers 

Or the winds that blow. 

When the snow hath ceased its falling, 

Come the sun's glad rays ; 
Lighting earth to silvery brightness, 

With their dazzling blaze ; 
Making eyes to weep, as vainly 

They would strive to gaze. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 59 

Now the old church and its spire 

Glisten more and more ; 
While the noble chestnut monarch, 

Sparkling brightly o'er, 
Seem like pure unearthly guardians 

Either side the door. 

Now the snow- clad graves are shining 

In the dazzling light ; 
Emblems of the holy vesture 

Worn in regions bright, 
By the spirit of the loved ones 

Vanished from our sight. 

How like frost our old age cometh ! 

By its chilling wand 
Life's warm current slower courseth, 

Palsied is the hand, 
Man is stripped of outward beauty, 

Naught but soul can stand. 

But like snow the still death cometh, 

Morn, or noon, or night ; 
Covering all from mortal vision, 

Silently with might ; 
Hiding all the forms of loved ones 

From our eager sight. 



THOUGHTS. 

Youth, with its sparkling eye, 

The opening flowers and leaves with colors rife, 
Joy, with its happy tones, and music sweet, 

All speak of life. 



60 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SABLES. 

The howling blasts, the gloomy brow of night, 

Ground frozen by the winter's icy breath ; 
The cold, dim shadows of the dreary tomb, 
All murmur " death." 

Old age with crippled limb, the past's dim page ; 

The tree with blasted stump and faded leaf, 
All seem to whisper in sepulchral tones : 
" Life is so brief." 

And with a gloomy heart and sad, 

We see the flower buds of this life decay ; 
We see the gentle ones our hearts so loved 
Vanish away. 

But shades of night but come before the morn, 

Bright in the glory of its mighty king ; 
And summer follows winter's icy breath, 
When zephyrs sing. 

The flower may wither, but the seed is there, 

And soon will peep again from out the ground ; 
The worm is changed into a brighter thing, 
New life hath found. 

And surely as the ground receives our form, 

We like the seed which in the ground hath lain, 
With* glory on the resurrection morn 
Shall rise again ! 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 61 

THE SUNSHINE. 
Oh 1 the merry, merry sunshine I It makes the heart so gay." 

Oh ! the sunshine is so pleasant, 

In the joyous days of spring ; 
When the leaf-buds open silently, 

And the rills are murmuring. 

When the air is soft as lute notes, 
And each thing seems fresh and new ; 

And the heart drinks in earth's beauties, 
As flowers the morning dew. 

Oh ! sad would be this bright earth, 

If no joyous sunshine played ; 
If it sparkled not on rivers, 

Or on dew of green grass blade : 

If no rich, red rays were dancing 

Upon the cottage wall ; 
Oh ! ever o'er this earth of ours 

Would hang a darksome pall. 

So are the sad and lonely, 

When no kind words are spoken ; 
As 'mid this earth, so drear to them, 

They wander spirit-broken. 

Oh ! speak one word of kindness, 

One word, howe'er so light, 
And it will steal into the heart 

As steals the sunshine bright. 

There is a sunshine of the face ; 

A kind and pleasant glance 
May waken many a dreary one 

From out a lonely trance. 



62 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



We little know the influence 

A gentle look hath given ; 
We can not tell how much it taught 

Of God, of hope, of heaven. 

And there's a sunshine of the soul, 
One bright and glorious day ; 

Tis when the clouds of heaven's wrath 
From o'er it roll away. 

Then beams the Sun of Righteousness, 

With holy lustre bright ; 
Oh ! pray we, then, with fervent hearts, 

Send us, great God, that light. 

Oh ! shine into our darkened minds, 
Send us thy heavenly grace ; 

Then shall the sunshine of the soul 
Be ever on our face. 

And when our breath has passed away, 

To earth our bodies given ; 
Then may the sunshine of our look 

Perfected be in heaven. 



A COMMENCEMENT ODE. 

Life has been a pleasant river, 

But with a resistless tide, 
And our barks have floated onward, — 

Floated onward, side by side. 
Now the stream is deeper growing, 

Rushing to the heaving main ; 
And we part upon its waters, 

Mayhap, ne'er to meet again. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 63 



Ever floating, side by side, 
With no cloud to inai* the heaven, 

Scarce a ripple on the tide, — 
With no storms that tossed the billows 

Madly o'er the ocean's breast, — 
We should seek no safer haven, 

Long not for the land of rest. 

Mingling with life's heaving ocean 

Is death's dark and turbid stream ; 
And we all must pass its waters, 

Ere the land upon us gleam. 
Let us pray our barks shall never 

Turn to view the shore of night, 
But shall stream upon the waters 

Radiance from the land of light. 

One hath said, with words of power, 

That His children need not fear ; 
When in waters dark they enter, 

He himself their course will steer. 
Let us pray that Christ the holy, 

Who these blessed words hath given, 
Will be pilot o'er the billows, 

Safely guide each bark to heaven. 

When the voyage of life is over, 

And death's gloomy stream is passed, 

Let us, purified in spirit, 
Meet in that blessed land at last. 

This the hope to cheer us onward, 
And though mournfully we part, 

Yet we know there is a heaven 
Waiting for the pure in heart. 



64 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

May this heart to each be given ! 

Father, may we ever dwell 
In that land of love and beauty, 

Where is echoed no farewell ! 



HO, TO THE LAND OP SHADOWING WINGS!' 

Far in the vista of the past 

A prophet old and gray 
Gave to the chosen ones of God 

A glimpse of this, our day ; 
And echo yet those glorious words 

Of olden prophecy, 
Over the lands that voice hath gone ; 

And the islands of the sea 
Are answering, while the ocean's waves 

Koar it tumultously. 
Ho, to the land of shadowing wings ! 

Ho ! echoes forth that voice 
To the stricken son of Israel, 

And maketh him rejoice. 
Ho ! no oppression meeteth thee, — 

No sneers of tyrant scorn ; 
But over thy Jerusalem 

Untroubled thou mayst mourn. 
Come to our land of sheltering wings ! 

God, hear our humble cries ; 
Kend thou in this, our shadowing land, 

The vail that shrouds their eyes. 
Lord, thou hast made our happy land 

Bright as the noon of day, 
And kept, with all its fury, 

The red-mouthed war at bay ; 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS— POETIC. 65 

For we have lent to thee ; to us 

Thy promise thou hast given, 
" Who blesseth Israel, I bless, 

E'en from the courts of . heaven I" 

Ho, to the land of shadowing wings ! 

That distant voice hath come, 
Beneath their shelter all may find 

A free and happy home. 
The " Gem of Ocean " caught the sound 

And to the joyous strain 
A famished people lent an ear, 

And echoed it again ; 
Forth o'er the ocean came a voice : 

" Come, take of our full store, 
For we a goodly portion have, — 

Pressed down and running o'er." 
The poor were fed ; and the wild despair, 

The famine, the death-clasped hand, 
Changed to the upturned eye of praise 

And blessings on our land. 
They who give to the famished poor, 

To the Lord Almighty lend ; 
And he a three-fold portion 

As recompense shall send. 
Lord, thou hast blessed us ! thankfully 

We own thy gracious care ; 
And many an humble heart is bowed 

To thee, God, in prayer ! 

Ho, to the land of shadowing wings ! 

Where the good and brave have trod ; 
Ho, to the sparkling fountain — 

Freedom to worship God ! 



66 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Drink of its limpid waters, — 
Of the priceless life-boon given ; 

For the source is a spring of beauty, 
Close by the courts of heaven. 



Ours no Austrian eagle, 

With wings of a gloomy dye ; 
Oars no Prussian eagle, 

With pinions that may not fly ; 
Ours no Russian eagle, 

With its double thievish stare, 
Like the glance of a demon hyena 

Roused from its midnight lair. 
But ours are golden pinions, 

Stretched wide and ever free, 
With a true and sheltering welcome, 

To our land beyond the sea. 
Ho, to our land of shelter ! 

Here shall the exiles find 
Man of the generous heart is free 

As the untrammeled wind ; — 
Free as the bounding ocean, 

Free as the arching dome ; 
Free, for our fathers gained it, 

Blessings on every home. 
Kossuth, each true-born freeman 

Giveth bis heart and hand, 
He who refuseth is bondman, 

Slave, though in this our land. 
Cowards are never freemen 

Wheresoever they be ; 
The selfish are always in thraldom, 

Their hearts are their tyranny. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 67 

Lo ! see our eagle stretcheth 

Widely its shadowing wings, 
And from its golden pinions 

A glorious radiance flings ; 
And that light hath lured the nations 

To our country of the free ; 
And that light shall lure the nations, 

Till the world have liberty. 

Lo ! as an eagle proveth 

Its young by the sun's bright glare, 
And if they, blinded, waver, 

An outcast's lot they share ; 
So do we lead the nations 

To the sun of liberty, 
And if its brightness blindeth, 

They may not be the free. 
But if brave Hungary gazeth 

Undazzled on its light, 
We with our sheltering pinions 

Will guard her upward flight. 



TO A LADY. 

Violets 'neath their broad leaves hiding, 

Breathing perfume constantly ; 
Dew-drops bending down the flowers, 

Emblems, lady, are of thee. 
Kindness is the mystic perfume 

That the gentle spirit breathes ; 
And benevolence, like dew-drops, 

O'er the soul a brightness wreathes. 



G8 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SABLES. 



TO 



In thy heart a bright flame gleams, 
And thou canst not hide its beams ; 

For thy rich dark eyes are bright 
With its pure and holy light. 

Love has breathed its mystic spell 
Bound thy heart, I know full well ; 

For the blushes all reveal 
What thou strivest to conceal. 



SHADOWS. 



Shadows are ever 

Seen upon earth ; 
But though so dreary, 

Light gives them birth ; — 
Light that surroundeth 

Things which we love ; — 
Light from the bright sun 

Shining above. 

Shadows are gliding 

Round our hearth-stone, 
Death may have entered 

To darken our home ; 
More deep the affliction, 

From God comes more aid 
For brighter the light is 

The deeper the shade. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 69 

Visions steal often 

At night to the breast, 
Shadowy visions 

Of those who are blest ; 
Dimly we see them, 

Forms we still love, 
Of those who are happy 

In bright realms above. 

There are shadows of morning, 

And shadows of noon, 
And shadows of evening, 

And shadows of gloom ; 
And soft shades by moonlight 

Have oft given birth 
To fanciful things, 

Which seem not of earth. 

Life's morning is lovely, 

And soft is its light, 
But the shadows of morning 

Point ever toward night ; 
Life's evening is dreary, 

Of sunshine 'tis shorn ; 
But the shadows of evening 

Point ever toward morn ! 



THE KING OF THE JEWS. 

Sing ye the praise of our mighty Jehovah, 
Sing all ye people, resound it abroad ; 

Who 'mid the gods of the reprobate heathen 
Doeth such wonders as Israel's God ? 



70 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Horsemen and horses 'neath waters be buried, 

None of grim idols the death-shriek would list ; 
But o'er the king and the nobles of Egypt 

Madly in foamings the wild billows hissed. 
Through times of sadness our people he leadeth, 

As in the days of their troubles so dire ; 
Always he is, though invisible, near us, — 

Day hath its cloud and the night hath its fire* 
Praise Him, so awful in glory and power, 

Cursed be that tongue that his praise shall refuse ; 
Cursed be the heart that refuseth to own Him, 

Mighty Jehovah, King of the Jews ! 
Thus did Jehovah's ancient people sing, — 
Thus shout the praises of their mighty King. 



Lo ! upon sad Calvary's mountain 

See the cross is raised on high, 
And a form is placed upon it, 

He the Godhead of the sky. 
List ! The booming thunder groaneth, 

'Mid the dark and cloudy pall ; 
Earth is quaking, rocks are rending, 

Terrors on the guilty fall ; 
While the lurid lightning showeth 

Solemn words we must not lose, — 
O'er the cross is this inscription : 

" Jesus, King of all the Jews !" 
Lo ! for guilty man he dieth, — 

He whom prophets long foretold ; 
He who came to save the erring, 

The lost ones of Israel's fold. 
But, alas ! with wild derision 

Treated they the Lord of heaven ; 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 71 

Yet e'en on the cross he prayeth : 

" Father, let them be forgiven !" 
" On our heads, and on our children's, 

Be his blood !" they madly cry ; 
And those words were registered 

In the mighty courts on high. 
After ages saw 'mid bondage 

They the once so loved of heaven, 
But e'en yet that cry is echoed : 

" Father, let them be forgiven !" 

Lo ! 'mid clouds the Savior cometh, 

Seated on his mighty throne, 
While the earth and heaven fleeth, 

With a deep, convulsive groan ; 
And the ocean gives its dead 

To the great tribunal dread. 
Saints with trembling lips are praising ; • 

Loud the wild, despairing cry : 
" Hide us, oh, ye mountains, hide us 

From Jehovah's awful eye !" 

Now repentant, they behold him — 

Him whom they so madly scorned ; 
And with deep-felt grief acknowledge 

God once o'er their city mourned. 
But forever are they banished 

In the realms of dark despair ; 
There, while endless ages roll, 

With the wicked ones to share. 

Israel now hath owned its Savior, 

They have had their sins forgiven ; 
With the Christian Gentile dwell they 

Ever in the courts of heaven ; 



72 



MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



And no more the King of Jewry 

Israel in her glory sings, 
But the Jew and Gentile joineth, 

" Lord of lords, and King of kings !" 



A FRAGMENT. 
Silent is the little chamber, 

Silent now, and lone, 
Save the old clock ticking, ticking, 

With its solemn tone ; 
As the pendulum is swinging 

Measuredly and slow, 
Counting all the passing minutes 

As they swiftly go. 

On a couch an infant lieth, 

■ Parting is the breath ; 
And the life, like captive dove, 

Struggleth now with death. 
Dimly burns the waning candle, 

Flickering high and tall, 
Casting shadows long and fitful 

Up against the wall. 

Beats the heart yet fainter, fainter, 

Friends low whispering speak ; 
Fadeth now the roseate color 

From the lip and cheek ; 
And the little hands are lying 

White upon the breast, 
And a moan, and then a silence, 

Tells of heaven's guest ; 
Could an angel seem more holy 

In that quiet rest ? 






LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 73 

Ceaseth now the mournful ticking ; 

And the flickering light, 
Casting strange convulsive shadows, 

Fadeth from the sight. 
But a ray of light is glimmering 

Faintly in the room, 
As the spirit upward flitteth 

Through the solemn gloom. 



PARTING SONG. 

Listen to the melody, 

Hark ! It hath its closing strain ; 
Gaze upon the fragile flower, 

Blooming but to die again. 
See the white waves, hand in hand, 

Parting on the pebbly beach ; 
And the melody and flower, 

And the waves, a lesson teach. 



Teach that partings ever come, 

Teach that earthly joys must die, 
Teach that happy hours must end 

Like the strains of melody ; 
Yet the waves of love and joy, 

And the flowers to us given, 
And the sweetest melody, 

Part, nor die, nor end in heaven. 
4 



74 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



MOUNTAINS. 

O'er all this goodly earth of ours 

Are mountains grand and high, 
Like giant fingers pointing still 

Up to the solemn sky. 
'Neath burning sun, 'mid dreary snows, 

In distant foreign clime, 
And in our own loved land, they stand 

In majesty sublime. 
We rest beneath their shadow, 

And each lofty feeling stirs 
As we survey their mighty forms 

Standing like conquerors. 
Our hearts drink in sublimity, 

And holy thoughts are given, 
We rise with them above earth's storms, 

And upward gaze to heaven. 
Well may we then remember 

That patriarch of old, 
To whom a wrathful, angry God 

Earth's punishment foretold. 
And who, when all the earth was drowned, 

And waters heaped above 
The highest mount, sent from the ark 

His messenger, — a dove. 
Kescued at last from wave and wind, 

The ark securely sat 
Upon the summit, broad and high, 

Of mountain Ararat. 



'Twas from a mountain cold and stern, 
God's awful law was given. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 75 

There Israel's leader, face to face, 

Spake with the Lord of heaven. 
Alas ! how different now the place 

Where once that glory shone ! 
Now tribes of Arabs, with their chiefs, 

Hold that fair spot alone. 
Once, half way up its grassy sides 

A Christian convent stood ; 
But Moslems clustered round its walls, 
• Like hounds that scented blood. 



We may not Horeb's mount forget ; 

Or Carmei, green and fair ; 
Or the smooth slopes of Olivet, 

Where Christ went forth for prayer. 



Oh ! unlike these those lofty mount3, 

Whose tops are capped with snow, 
Like giants gazing sternly down 

Upon the vales below. 
Such are the noble Pyrenees, 

Piercing to heaven's gate, 
Where Roland fell, with all his men, 

At Roncesvalles' strait. 
Far down one side a rugged waste 

Of rocks and stones is seen ; 
And on the other, slope tall groves, 

With wavy grain between. 
Often the roar of plunging heaps 

Of snow breaks on the ear ; 
The peasant hears the dread Lavange, 

And shivers in his fear. 



76 



MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



O'er Switzer's valleys proudly rise 

The Alps upon the sight, 
Forever wrapped, like spectral forms, 

In garments snowy white. 
Beneath are fields — above is snow, — 

Old age and sprightly youth ; 
The flowers speak of innocence, 

The whitened snow of truth. 
Well might the ancients deem that fiends 

Dwelt in those mountains high, 
And hurled the mighty torrents down 

With a wild demon cry. 
Here great Saint Bernard rises up, 

Genevre in his pride, 
And Jungfrau in her stateliness, 

With Streckhorn at her side ; 
And nobly in their mighty midst, 

Like haughty emperors, 
Mount Rosa and Saint Gothard stand, 

Mount Blanc in grandeur soars. 



Aye ! gaze with awe upon the Alps, — 

Their chasms deep below, 
O'er which the hunter's daring foot 

Treads on the treacherous snow ; 
The awful hush, the silence dread, 

Of spots before unseen, 
Save by the chamois or the goat, 

Or eagle's eye so keen ; 
Yiew thunder-clouds beneath your feet, 

Behold the lightning's glance ; 
Then gaze upon the snow-capped heights 

And ask : " Came these by chance ?" 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 77 

There are the mighty Appenines, 

"Whose fame in history glows, 
From which the yellow Tiber rolls, 

And pleasant Arno flows. 



Hungary, the bleeding and oppressed, 

Can boast her mountains too, 
Which stand as firmly as the souls 

Of her own children do. 
Full many a safe retreat they made 

To those poor wand'rers driven, 
Who knew no place to seek for aid, 

Except from them and heaven. 



The Urals gird the Eussian wastes, 

And in their bosoms hold 
Vast mines of wealth ; rich, precious gems, 

And veins of purest gold. 



The snow-clad Dofrines, Sweden's pride, 

Hear the Atlantic roar, 
Their strong arms brave the ocean waves, 

On Norway's sea-girt shore. 
Within their shadow she was born, 

Who sent across the sea, 
Her pure, good words to cheer us on 

In the country of the free. 
And, too, from Sweden's distant lands 

A nightingale has come, 
To thrill us with the warblings 

Learned in that northern home. 



The Himalaya's lofty peaks, 

A mighty giant band, 
Stretch from the Ganges golden stream 

To Cashmere's pleasant land. 

The dweller 'neath Italian skies 

Oft sees a fiery glare, 
Go up from dark Vesuvius' top 

Into the midnight air ; 
And far 'mid Iceland's dreary snows 

Volcanic Hecla stands, 
Forever pouring forth its rage 

Though bound with icy bands. 
The sailors on the dreary coast 

Of new found Adelaide 
Tell us what mountains skirt the shore, 

Of icy pillars made. 

Oh, Greece ! the fair and fallen Greece 1 

The land of love and song, 
To which so many tales of fear 

And loveliness belong ; 
Where beauty smiles on moonlit tower 

And plays in marble hall, 
And thrilling memories cluster round 

Where'er our footsteps fall ; 
Thy chiefest romance lingers yet 

Around thy. mountains old, 
Towering o'er rained battlement 

So noble and so bold. 
Pelion and Ossa raise their heads 

Each one a lofty mount, 
And from the side of Helicon 

Springs the Oastalian fount. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 79 

Parnassus and Olympus soar, 

Of which the poets dream, 
A mystery hangs in every tree 

And glitters in each stream. 
Once 'mid their shade grand temples stood, 

And statues rich and rare ; 
And votaries kneeled before these shrines, 

And offered many a prayer. 

Nor in the first known world alone 

Do mountain ranges rear, 
They rise in grandeur o'er the west, 

The land we hold so dear ; 
The Andes, in their mighty cells, 

Have richest metal stored, 
And lose themselves far in the west, 

In regions unexplored. 

See the mighty Chimborazo rise 

Far up above the snow, 
The monarch of the sea of hills 

That round him lies below. 
Oh, yes ! and in our own dear home, 

The land of liberty, 
'Mid all its lakes and mighty streams 

What mountain chains we see ! 
Around the Cordilleras wild 

Hangs many a legend old, 
Of those who climbed with cautious foot— 

The Indian hunters bold. 
Upon their rugged tops the pines 

Bear up their branches high, 
Casting a dense, thick, twilight shade, 

That shuts out all the sky. 



80 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

The condor's scream breaks on the ear, 

The eagle builds her nest 
Far in those grand and lofty heights, 

Where man can ne'er molest. 
They are the home of liberty, 

Wherever mountains be ; 
There, sheltered from the grasp of kings, 

Dwell spirits pure and free. 
Lift up a song of triumph then 

For the mountains' barren sod, 
And pour a strain of gratitude 

To the master-builder— God ! 



SUMMER EVENING. 

Now the night is coming slowly, 

Like a nun with shrouding vail, 
And the twilight shadows thicken, 

Over hill, and wood, and dale ; 
Through the evening mist that rises 

Trees like giant fingers seem, 
Pointing still and quiet upward, 

Where the stars serenely gleam. 

Now yon lake, with wooded island, 

Seems all peacefully at rest, 
As a mother sweetly sleepeth, 

With her child upon her breast. 
On its shores each leaf dew-laden 

Bendeth o'er the surface fair, 
Gazing at its drooping image 

By the starlight mirrored there. 



LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 81 

Over all a stillness reigneth, 

In each dale and on each hill, 
Naught disturbs the breathless silence, 

Save the noise of busy mill ; 
For its distant echo cometh, 

Up the wooded hilly steep, 
And, like constant moanings soundeth, 

Making silence seem more deep. 

Now the church-yard in the distance 

Showeth by the pale star light, 
And, like sentinels, the white stones 

Seem to guard the graves to-night ; 
But the old church, crowned with ivy, 

Is so like the dark gray sky, 
That one scarce can see its spire 

Pointing solemnly on high. 

Life is still in all the village ; 

For night's muffled footsteps fall 
At the door of lowly cottage 

And old mansion wide and tall, — 
And their inmates now are sleeping 

Quietly, in slumber deep, — 
How like them within the church-yard, 

Eesting in unbroken sleep ! 



ELLIE RUE. 
All among the woods and meadows 

Where the prettiest flowers grew, 
Bounding like a little fairy, 

Wandered darling Ellie Rue. 
Shaking gay her curling tresses, 

Trillicg merrily her song ; 

4* 



82 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



Culling all the brightest flowers, 

Tripped the pretty child along. 
Long she wandered in the forest, 

Where the sunbeams scarcely glanced, 
Where the waving fern-leaves' shadows 

All across the pathway danced ; 
With her tripping and her singing, 

Basket swinging on her arm, 
Ellie never thought of sadness, 

Ellie never dreamed of harm. 
So emerging from the forest, 

Which was echoing her song, 
Tripped she toward the bridge-spanned current, 

Bounding, like herself, along. 
On the logs sat little Ellie, 

Gazing in the waves below, 
As the golden gems of sunlight 

Sparkled on their crests of snow. 
Noble trees, and reeds, and bushes, 

Many a dark'ning shadow threw, 
Which seemed bridges for the fairies 

To the mind of Ellie Eue. 
Thus in thoughtful mood while sitting, 

Gazing in the waters deep, 
With her cheek on white arm lying, 

Thus the darling fell asleep ; 
And she dreamed about the fairies, 

Till the murmurs of the stream 
Seemed to her their joyous voices 

Singing to her in the dream. 
Low, sweet voices sang, " Dear Ellie ;" 

And as fancy richer grew, — 
Springing lightly with the flowers 

In the waves sank Ellie Rue. 






LATER SCHOOL COMPOSITIONS — POETIC. 



83 



Long they sought the little darling, 
Calling for her, — all in vain ; 

Shouting — listening ; but the forest 
Sent their voices back agrain. 



In a bed of reeds they found her, 

With her basket by her side, 
With her tresses floating round her, 

From her little hat untied. 
Eyes were closed as if in slumber, 

And the sun his radiance threw 
On the dead, but life-like features 

Of the darling Ellie Rue. 



84 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



CHAPTER V. 



THE GREAT SORROW. 

The eighteenth birthday passed by ; a collegiate 
course of study accomplished and erowned with 
honors ; possessed of attractions of a high order, 
with fine literary tastes ; the world, in its higher 
aims, had many fascinations for Miss Smalley, and 
the time passed by gayly and swiftly. 

Already she was engaged to be married. Her 
intended, a young man of great worth, was Mr. Wil- 
liam Hermanns, and the marriage was to take place 
when she should be twenty-two. 

That year came quickly about ; but not to bring 
the wedding-day or the absent lover. It was to 
bring the overthrow of earthly hopes ; it was to 
bring a trial of terrible severity, which should call 
out undeveloped qualities of an extraordinary char- 
acter, and result in changing all her plans and pros- 
pects for two worlds. 

Mr. Hermanns was in California, superintending 
large and responsible business interests, and was 
approaching the close of a three years' lucrative 
engagement. Declining health had been guardedly 



THE GREAT SORROW. 



85 



named in the correspondence. He made trial of a 
visit to Honolulu, and returned. A letter now came 
written by him in pencil, while lying on his bed. 
Grasping the facts, she begged the privilege of hast- 
ening to him. 

But such a journey, with the discomforts and tedi- 
ousness of it, inexperienced and unattended, seemed 
to her friends like a living burial. To interpose, 
however, was worse. It was not the flash of impulse, 
but an impelling conviction that it was her high 
privilege and honor to go, regardless of personal cost 
— a conviction that rose superior to all obstacles. 
To a friend she afterward wrote : " I knew that he 
could never come to me, but that I must go there." 

The privilege was conceded. In one week she was 
on her way alone to the distant port of San Fran- 
cisco. On the voyage to Panama, she wrote : 



" I still think I shall see him. I scarcely dare hope ; but pray 
to God for him. Oh ! if he is spared but a little longer, I could 
be happy — happy. Last night I dreamed of being stopped half- 
way on my journey, and of having it all to go over again. The 
necessity of going seemed there yet ; something told me, and tells 
me still, — ' Go, go !' Oh ! my dear mother, how can I ever pay the 
kindness that permitted me and gave me the means of going from 
New York ? I may pay back the gold, and I pray God to let 
me live that it may be refunded ; but the kindness, the love that 
prompted the act, dear mother, a lifetime can never repay. If I 
have ever given you pain, forgive me. I trust never to do so more. 
Bless you, mother. Be careful of yourself; for if I were to lose 
both my treasures, I could not live." 



86 MEMORIAL OP MART E. SARLES. 

A favoring Providence saw to it that she had no 
lack of kind attentions. Still writing, on the out- 
ward voyage, she added : 

" My being alone seems to recommend me to everybody ; for 
this morning I am on speaking terms with quite a number. My 
seat is No. 3, next to the captain. Mr. W. comes to talk every 
evening with Mrs. A. and me — both poor, lone women. When 
I want to go en deck some one is always ready to take me. Dr. 
W., who has had all to do with making treaties with the Califor- 
nian Indians, I find very agreeable. Mr. P., also, is polite. So I 
meet with respectful attention wherever I go. 

" If I were to give way to my feelings, and keep by myself, I 
could not control my mind ; so I go as much as possible with 
other people, and try to amuse my eyes and ears, if not my heart. 
This life (at sea) is novel, and perhaps will make me forget my 
trouble in a measure ; and when I feel sad and miserable, I shall 
take my Bible to read. I have no disposition to read anything 
else. The Bible comforts me, and I feel a peace after reading it 
that no other book gives me. * * * If the worst comes * 
* * yet grief never kills soon, it is a wearing grief that kills ; 
and future years shall determine that for me. * * * No land 
is visible yet ; nothing but the deep blue of the sea, and the feath- 
ery foam rushing all over it. * * * Last night I looked out in 
the night — no land ; nothing but the ocean and the silent stars. 
One bright star made a wavy line of light on the water, like the 

moon. At first I thought it was , then I thought of my 

journey's end, and again I prayed for its successful termination. 
Thoughts will wander over the sea, to those I love and to him I 
seek." 

After days of wasting, anxiety, she reached Pa- 
nama. There the fearful blow came. There she 
learned that now for weeks the form so much ad- 



THE GREAT SORROW. 



87 



mired Lad lain in the grave ! Among strangers, 
far from home and friends, the shock was well-nigh 
too severe. With her pencil she wrote : 

"My dear Mother:— He is dead— dead. * * * I want to 
go to his grave, mother, and to make all the inquiries possible 
about him. It will be a life-long comfort to me. Do not fear 
for me. The Lord has supported me, and will support me. ' No 
chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous. 
Nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of right- 
eousness unto them which are exercised thereby.' Oh, may this 
chastening be blessed tome! * * * It will only make one 
month's difference to you, and it will be such a comfort to me to 
see those who were with him in his last hours. * * * Do 
not worry about me. I am in God's hands, and he doeth all for 
the best ; but it is bitter, bitter trial ; but God knows best ; it 
is all right. He is in heaven. God give me grace to meet him 
there. It is but a little while, and we go the way of all the 
earth too. * * * Pray for me ; for without his help I am 
nothing. Do not worry about me, for I think of you all the 
time, and knowing what your feelings are it makes me feel 
worse. God will support me in my bitter trouble, and I know I 
shall feel more resigned in a little while. To come home imme- 
diately I could not bear. I must visit his grave." 

In a letter, some time afterward, she wrote : 
"At Panama I heard of the death of my heart's idol. God 
alone knows what sorrow was mine ! I feel now that the angels 
had charge of me. I feel now, though then I did not realize it, 
that God supported me, and that I was held up in the everlasting 
arms of his love. Though crushed to the earth, I determined to 
go to San Francisco, in order to make myself acquainted with all 
the particulars." 

She pursued her journey, reached the friends who 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



watched over him, went to the room where he died, 
obtained the mournful details, visited his grave and 
wept over it. A three days' tarry, and, broken in 
spirit, she set out on the homeward voyage, alone, as 
never before, and comfortless. 

From childhood she had been in the Sunday school. 
Some five years before, she had made a public avowal 
of faith in Christ, in connection with the Church of 
the Holy Trinity, where her mother then was and 
still is a member. For years she had been an active 
and prominent teacher in its school. 

Turning from a world that no more could charm, 
and that was giving out only signs and sounds of 
emptiness and desolation, she attempted to cast her- 
self upon the supports of religion. But trouble, new 
and unsuspected, and even deeper, was at hand. No 
hope for this world, and none for the world to come ! 
To repose upon Christ in spirit was an unknown ex- 
perience. With the letter and the form of it she was 
familiar ; but to the spirit of dependence and trust 
she was a stranger. Her earthly prospects all blasted, 
how intensified was her wretchedness to find that she 
was also an alien from the commonwealth of Israel ! 

There was no one human to whom she could unbur- 
den a breaking heart. Only God could be addressed, 
and only in the Bible could an answering voice come 
to her. Turning away from creatures all, she ceased 
not to search the Scriptures, imploring divine inter- 
position. She was now on the sea, bound homeward. 



THE JOY UNSPEAKABLE. 



89 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE JOY UNSPEAKABLE. 

Many days again the lone traveler was on the 
way ; and, as one would return from the dead, she 
one day, unannounced, entered her mother's house. 

But that return voyage had been witness to an 
event by far the most important of her life. It had 
been full of heaven ; for on the deep, and with the 
Bible alone as guide, she had obtained life in Christ. 
Old things had passed away ; behold, all things had 
become new. Much more than all that could be lost 
was more than found in Christ. Unearthly supports 
were felt. "I shall go to him, but he shall not 
return to me." Nay, another world and other rela- 
tions, infinitely higher and happier, were now making 
an easy conquest of all her thoughts. 

The story of her sorrow was rehearsed, and with 
it the history of her redemption from a death that 
never dies. But was she not already a member of 
the church? Yes. Yainly, however, did friends, 
together with her beloved pastor, insist that for 
years she had been a Christian. No, she replied ; 
that was a theory approved and cherished intellect- 



90 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

ually, this is knowledge from heartfelt experience ; 
that was Christ in the heavens, this is Christ in the 
soul. 

On such a point her own words would be much 
preferred. I am not aware that she has left, in 
writing, any extended account of that great change, 
but brief allusions to it occur often in her letters. 
In one she employs the following language : 

" In God's great mercy this trial came, and I sought to find 
consolation in my religion. Alas ! it was a broken reed. I had 
really no God ; I was without hope in the world. My soul was 
utterly desolate. These were the means employed to make me 
see my evil heart, and to lead me to call upon God for mercy." 

To a cousin in the far West she wrote : 

" I can say : ' Before I was afflicted I went astray.' Perhaps 
you did not hear of my trouble, my cousin, and how merciful my 
blessed Jesus was to such an ungrateful, forgetful creature as I. 
Perhaps you heard of my lonely journey to San Francisco, and 
of earthly hopes all blasted. * * * I will not weary you 
with the particulars of my three days' tarry in San Francisco, 
but merely state that I am sincerely thankful that I went. It was 
a melancholy satisfaction to see his friends, to go to the room 
where he died, and to visit his grave. 

" So God blasted all my earthly hopes, and left me sorrowing. 
Blessed be his holy name, I was not left comfortless! For 
Jesus' sake he sent his Holy Spirit to convince me of sin and 
righteousness. I found the blessed Savior the friend needed by 
me. He has become very precious — the chief among ten thou- 
sand, the altogether lovely. * * * Now I have earnest 
desires for the salvation of others. Now I desire to be useful in 



THE JOY UNSPEAKABLE. 



91 



the vineyard of my Lord. Now it is my prayer that Jesus 
would conform me more to his image, and enable me to use time, 
talents, everything I have, to his honor and glory." 

That she should have been misled on a point vital 
above all others, created a sense of insecurity in re- 
spect to other doctrinal views which she had cherish- 
ed ; and having obtained the much-needed light 
directly from the fountain source, she determined to 
subject every doctrine she held to the same unerring- 
test — the Bible and prayer. 

Besides, infinite debtor to his grace as she felt her- 
self to be, she was intensely desiring to know his 
whole will concerning her, and was prepared to fol- 
low whithersoever he should lead, and at any cost. 

The rite of baptism administered to any others 
than believers, and any other use of water in that 
rite than an immersion, " buried with him in bap- 
tism, wherein also ye are risen with him, 7 ' became 
grave questions. These difficulties were frankly laid 
before her pastor and his counsels solicited. 

Books were obtained for her, and were eagerly 
read. Yes ; but she insisted that the Bible present- 
ed another view, — the Bible was against them, and 
it must be sole arbiter. What is called, by way 
of reproach, " close communion," she saw must in- 
evitably follow, and she bowed in acquiescence. 
Other doctrines, known especially as " the doctrines 
of grace 11 — God's everlasting and unchangeable love 
for his people, opened before her with winning love- 



92 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



liness, and the clearness of demonstration. To one 
she wrote : 



" My views on doctrinal points have changed. Clearly do I 
see it is all of grace. I fear to sin, because I love my Lord." 

Again she wrote : 

" There is no solid comfort in the world. ' The peace which 
passeth all understanding ' is only derived from an humble trust 
in the merits of a crucified Savior. * * * Oh ! what unmerit- 
ed mercy has been shown to us, poor sinners ! From what a hor- 
rible pit have our feet been drawn ! Upon what a firm rock have 
they been placed, — even Christ Jesus! Can we ever be suffi- 
ciently grateful that his voice called us ; that he looked us into 
repentance ; that his Holy Spirit deigns to dwell in our hearts ? 
Are you not often constrained to cry out : 

1 Why was I made to hear his voice, 
And enter while there's room?' 

Sovereign grace shall have all the glory. ' Not unto us, not unto 
us, but unto thy name be all the glory !' " 

In the course of months she discovered that the 
principles which she had studied out immediately 
from the word of God, and warmly welcomed as the 
mind of the Holy Spirit, were Baptist principles. It 
was not now a prolonged struggle. Intimate rela- 
tionships, uniform kindness, marked esteem, long and 
warm attachments, and cherished associations were 
on the one hand ; Christ and all his wondrous love 
and wisdom and truth were on the other. The sac- 
rifice was cheerfully made. She came to my house 
a stranger ; gave the history of her conversion, and 



THE JOY UNSPEAKABLE. 93 

a statement of the principles which she had adopted, 
saying that, if she was regarded a proper subject, she 
wished to be baptized, and to identify herself with 
those who held and taught and vindicated these 
precious truths. 

Her health was now broken ; lung disease seemed 
fastened upon her ; she thought her days on earth 
would be few, and that therefore what she did must 
be done quickly. As I looked upon the tall, grace- 
ful but wasted form before me, her statement unim- 
passioned and transparent as light, every part of it 
pervaded with grateful, artless, resolute love, and 
stirring the depths of my soul as by a power not of 
this world, I too, thought that she was fast ripening 
for the skies, — certainly that, or a career of distin- 
guished usefulness. 

She appeared at a church-meeting, and asking per- 
mission to rise and stand beside the table, calmly 
sketched the history of God's great love to her. The 
church saw and admired the grace of God. Her 
testimony for Christ was attended by the Holy 
Spirit ; the impression was profound. 

She was immersed March 1, 1857, at the age of 
twenty- three. It is worthy of record, that her grand- 
parents (long before passed away), on both sides 
were Baptists. Her grandfather, Rev. Henry Smal- 
ley, of New Jersey, had been a settled pastor in one 
place more than fifty years. 



94 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



CHAPTER VII. 



THE FIRST THREE YEARS IN THE KINGDOM. 

Having first given herself to the Lord, and then 
to us by his will, Miss Smalley's instant care was for 
others without hope, especially the poor. She was 
apparently unconscious that in this line of effort she 
was copying exactly after her Master. 

A door of usefulness, such as she coveted, and that 
she could immediately enter, was opened. Our Mis- 
sion School room was unoccupied during the day. 
There she gathered children, the outcasts and the 
neglected of that neighborhood, for daily instruc- 
tion ; and from house to house, as she went, sowed 
the seeds of the kingdom. 

Bonnets and clothing she made and prepared with 
her own hands, obtaining for them also caps and 
shoes. At the expiration of a year, by unwearied 
kindness, she had won their little hearts completely, 
and had made their parents her fast friends. 

In the mean time, there was a bright, beautiful boy 
in her own immediate neighborhood, to whom a sis- 
ter could not have been more devoted. She watched 
for his soul. He died not long afterward, leaving 



THE FIRST THREE YEARS IN THE KINGDOM. 95 

the most ample proof that her words ministered 
grace to him. 

She also had the great delight of seeing a young 
lady, who was her intimate friend, turning her 
face from the gay world, to seek, with her, endur- 
ing riches and righteousness. But three months 
from the time of her own baptism had passed when 
this one, though she resided in the upper part of 
New York City, was baptized and received into the 
fellowship of the same church, and, with her, entered 
into the work of the Sunday school. In the annals 
of another world, it will be found, without doubt, 
that her example and prayers were the means ap- 
pointed for drawing this friend to Christ. 

With her, entered into the work of the Sunday 
School, I said; because, besides devoting so much 
time to those poor children during the week, she en- 
tered our Sunday school on the Lord's day. 

A class of colored children suddenly made their 
appearance among us. There had been no class of 
the kind before, and there was some difference of 
opinion about what should be done. Instantly she 
offered her services as their teacher, and earnestly 
desired the appointment. She was overruled, how- 
ever, and was put in charge of a class of young 
ladies. 

In one year from the date of her baptism her sis- 
ter's health required that the family should remove 
to New Jersey, to make trial of its milder air. A 



96 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

state of mind at rest, and assured in the truth, to- 
gether with this change of air, wrought a marvelous 
change in her own health, so that she became strong 
and vigorous. There, also, her sister was baptized, 
and both became members of the First Baptist Church, 
Bloomfield. 

This separation from her Bible Class gave rise to 
many letters, some of which have recently fallen into 
my hands. Previously to her leaving, the seven were 
grouped in a daguerreotype and presented to her. 
The one of earliest date before me reads thus : 

Bloomfield, Jane 7, 1858. 

My very dear M. : — Just now I took down the daguerreotype 
to see whom I should write to. Your mischievous eyes instantly 
attracted me, and so, even though you do not come next in order 
of age, I shall write to you. 

What do you say to my getting out of bed at four o'clock in 
the morning, listening to the birds and watching the sun rise ? 
This very thing my mother and I do, and you have no idea how 
we enjoy it. This morning, sitting by our open window, the 
delightful mountain air laden with perfumes comes in, the birds 
sing merrily, and the early sunshine wakes everything into a 
smile. Everything seems praising God, and I trust my heart has 
an answering echo. I feel all the time like singing that glorious 
Psalm : " Oh, that men would praise the Lord for his goodness, 
and for his wonderful works to the children of men !" 

Heaven is the place where no discordant sound is heard, but 
where the grand chorus of praise and adoration goes up from every 
heart. Do you feel, my dear girl, that you could appreciate such 
joys ? Do you feel that you have now that spirit of praise and 
adoration ? If so, " the kingdom of God is within you." Oh ! to 
die without a new heart, without an interest in Jesus' blood, 



THE FIRST THREE YEARS IN THE KINGDOM. 97 

how could you enjoy heaven ? It would be uo place of happiness 
to you. This is one reason why I urge you again " to seek the 
Lord while he may be found, to call upon him while he is near." 
You know we may be called away from this earth at any time. 
You know we have both body and soul ; that when the body dies, 
the soul leaves it. You know it is God who sends for the soul, 
and it appears before him covered with its sins, or clothed in the 
robe of Christ's righteousness. God will not pass over one sin, 
they must all be atoned for ; and if the poor soul undertakes the 
penalty, it will be paying the debt through the never-ending ages 
of the future, yet it will never be canceled. The Lord Jesus saw 
all this, and for this did he give up his life to be a " ransom for 
many." He is the propitiation for their sins. You can be saved 
alone through him. Remember how compassionate was Jesus 
upon earth, how he received all who came to him, casting none 
away. Even so now, he is the same, — " the same yesterday, to-day, 
and forever." Go to him, M., and beg him to take away your 
stony heart, to give you a heart of flesh, a heart that you can feel. 
You often told me, all of you, " I do not feel my sins." Then ask 
the Lord Jesus to give you even the feeling, remembering, how- 
ever, that that does not save, but Christ himself. 

You must tell all of the dear girls that I do not forget them, 
and the one I write to last is not least thought of. 

The next letter in order of time is nine months 
later, and is to the same young lady : 

Bloomfield, March 5, 1859. 

My dear M. : — Your letter has often looked me imploringly 
in the face when my desk has been open, and I have often wished 
I could sit down and answer it. So it is, however. If you live 
to be as old as I, you will find your time occupied, every moment 
of it. You are the oldest of the children ; is it not so ? The 
oldest sister, too, so you have and will have enough to keep you 
busy. 

5 



98 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Do you remember the last hard snow-storm we Lad ? Well, 
I commenced a letter to you then. Unexpectedly I was called 
away, and the letter was left unfinished. When the opportunity 
came to add some lines, the snow bad all gone, and the days were 
like the summer. Of course, I could not send that letter to you, 
for the description of the snow scene would not have been just 
the thing. Now that I am fairly seated at the task, I expect to 
have a cozy chat with you. 

Although to-day is the 5th of March, yet the wind is knocking 
at the shutters and shaking the doors as if it were in the middle of 
December. However, this weather can not last very long. Very 
soon the buds and blossoms will come, and the green grass will 
spring up in every field. Then I shall hope to see you and some 
of the other dear girls. You have been coming to visit me — let 
me see, about eight months, I think. Now, if you live, the spring 
must not pass without your coming. I do want to see all of you. 
How are dear Annie W., and Emma and Emily, Margaret and 
Sarah ? Every Sunday I wish for and pray for you all. * * * 
You do not know how glad I should be to see you all ! Will you 
tell Emma R. that I received her letter, and intend answering it 
as soon as possible. Her little brother is dead. * * * God 
may have chosen these means to cause my dear scholar to think of 
him. Oh ! how it would cheer my heart to know that some of you 
loved my Savior ! You know that he is not your Savior until you 
have an interest in his precious blood. It was not enough that the 
Lamb was slain, but the blood was to be applied to the door-posts, 
and then the destroying angel passed by. So, dear M., you must 
have your heart sprinkled with the blood of Jesus, and then you are 
safe for this world and the next. You must give up the things you 
love for death ; he will snatch you away from friends and pleasures, 
and from the world you so much love ; why not give them up 
for Christ ? Having him, you have all things ; and when you 
pass through the dark valley, " thy rod and thy staff they comfort 
me," will be your song. Oh ! that I could tell you in a way that 



THE FIRST THREE YEARS IN THE KINGDOM. 99 

yon might feel it Low blessed is the love of Christ. Pleasures ! 
My dear child, you will never know what pleasure is until you pos- 
sess that " peace that passeth all understanding." Will you not 
pray that God, for the sake of his dear Son, will grant you this 
blessing and forgive your sins ? Do not think of living all youth 
and middle age in the service of Satan aud this world, and then 
beg the Lord to accept the dregs of your life. " Seek the Lord 
while he may be found. Call upon him while he is near." 

To the same scholar another letter was written , 
dated 

Bloojifield, June 3, 1859. 

My dear 31.: — I received intelligence this week of your dear 
father's illness, and yesterday saw the notice of his death in the 
paper. My poor child, I do sympathize with and pity you ; for 
the loss of a father is an irreparable one. Human sympathy 
avails but little at such a time, — oh, how little ! It can not bring 
back that dear one to you ; it can not soothe your sorrow or 
make you happy. No earthly power can do these things. Unto 
whom shall you look, then, but to Jesus, your dear mother's 
stay ? In your grief, direct your eyes to him ; pour out your 
soul before the Lord, who alone can comfort you. In your 
father's death there is hope. He has gone to the mansions pre- 
pared for him by his Savior ; he has entered upon the joy of his 
Lord ; he is with the Jesus he loved, who died for him. Oh ! what 
a glorious inheritance is his ! 

Dear child, do yoa ever expect to see that dear father again ? 
Have you any good hope of eternal life ? Is your father's God 
your God ? Your dear mother has Jesus for her comforter ; she 
has the blessed assurance of seeing the lost one, and joining her 
voice with his in praisiug the Lamb. But oh, my dear M., my 
dear, dear scholar, for whom I have prayed many times, have 
you this Jesus in the hour of your affliction ? If not, make haste 



100 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

to beg his help ! Oh! go to your father's God, and beg him, for 
Jesus' sake, to comfort you. 

Give to your mother my sympathizing love. She has promises 
adapted to her case. God promises support to the widow ; Jesus 
says : " I will not leave you comfortless." 

The following is a compressed outline of her relig- 
ious history during her tarry of two years in Bloom- 
field, by the pastor of that church, Rev. H. F. Smith : 

" I am at a loss how to select and condense tlie record of reminis- 
cences remaining in this community of that presence so associated with 
sunbeams in our families, our social meetings, our Sabbath school, and 
sanctuary ; that relieved the poor, quickened the slow pulse of age by 
kind attention, encouraged the doubting, instructed the ignorant, and 
lifted all upon whom it shone to higher enjoyment. I will allude to 
several particulars, which may answer as illustrations of her rounded 
Christian character. 

Almost spontaneously I am led to mention first, that she was pre- 
eminently her "pastor's friend. She seemed to have been taught, in 
a more eminent degree than most persons, the duty of the flock to the 
pastor ; and she had such an appreciation of the trials and needful en- 
couragement of a pastor, that her fertile mind devised and accom- 
plished multiplied means of co-operation. Her first greeting upon 
my arrival in the presence of the torn, weak, partially discouraged 
flock; the easy, natural, yet studious, efforts to infuse the home-feel- 
ing ; the hearty help afforded in every measure suggested, and her 
unfaltering influence in favor of doctrines not fully appreciated by all, 
contributed much, under the Spirit's guidings, to the compacting of the 
church and establishment in the truth. 

" She loved to sit at her Master 's feet in company with others. At 
lecture, in the pastor's Bible class, in conversational meetings sug- 
gested by herself, and in every-day intercourse, the thirst for divine 
knowledge was apparent, and she never failed to impart information 
in the exercise. 

" Ber presence in the sanctuary — how encouraging! The full up- 
turned, speaking countenance ; the eye, flashing joy at the gracious 
announcement of the word of life ; the shade of sympathy at allusion to 
suffering ; the firm, fixed attention to argument ; the whole attitude 



THE FIRST THREE YEARS IN THE KINGDOM. 101 

indicating that she came, not to criticise, but to drink at the gospel 
fountain, — all helped to strengthen the messenger of the word. While 
her mind clearly discriminated between the precious truth and the 
chaff sometimes mingled with attractive rhetoric, she nevertheless al- 
ways succeeded in extracting profit from all. She habitually wrote a 
full analysis of the pastor's sermons, and on Monday she rehearsed 
it to such of the infirm and aged as were unable to attend the sanctu- 
ary. Then, on her way home, she would leave the manuscript at the 
pastor's house, and with it rays of sunshine that gladdened our home 
long after her departure. Prof. Bradbury alludes to this custom of 
hers in another part of this memorial. A number of these reports, 
now in my possession, are treasured as mementos of her attention, her 
mental power, and her devotedness to others. 

" I need not dwell upon her thorough missionary spirit. Touching 
incidents are not wanting to illustrate the success of her efforts for the 
poor and the benighted. 'Blind Charlie,' saved through her persist- 
ent instrumentality, has already seen her with un vailed vision in the 
world of light, and others yet living arise and call her blessed." 

In an article for the Examiner, Prof. Win. B. 
Bradbury, who resided in Bloomfield, wrote of her : 

OUR MINISTERING ANGEL. 

"Many such, doubtless, there have been, but one I have known 
personally for a year past, as she has ministered under my own roof. 
I have an aged mother, whose solace and comfort in life is religion, 
and, as is generally the case with Christ's true followers, the nearer 
she approaches heaven the more precious to her are all the ordinances 
of the earthly sanctuary. Statedly as the Sabbath came round, she 
was to be found in her pew, and generally at least a quarter of an 
hour before the time for commencing service. She had long been a 
member of the Baptist Church, and no other place on earth seemed so 
much like home to her or so near to heaven. The preaching, to her 
ears, was always good ; and if any one found a fault, she always had 
an excuse ready at hand for him — and every sermon seemed to her 
the best. Gently and smoothly she seemed passing down life's cur- 
rent. Her last days were her best days ; her children, and her chil- 
dren's children, were around her, happy in ministering to her comfort. 
Her cup of blessing was nearly full. But a change came — and how 



102 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SABLES. 

sudden and great ! An accident — a fall, a broken limb, a cripple for 
life ! Helpless as a little cbild she must now lie month after month ; 
and what shall she do for spiritual comfort? True, she has good 
books ; she has her Bible, her Spurgeon, and her Examiner. But how 
can she live without the sermons of her own minister ? Can she hear 
no more preaching ? The preacher could not come and preach to her, 
and she could no longer go to the sanctuary. But an earthly angel 
was sent to her ; a young, loving, Christian lady, who herself had 
seen affliction. This lady was blessed with a remarkable memory, 
and now regularly, constantly, week after week, and month after 
month, for a whole year, did she, like a loving ministering spirit, visit 
this aged and afflicted disciple, and repreach the whole sermon, from 
beginning to end, from the text to the conclusion, that had been de- 
livered in the church — mother's church — by mother's own minister, 
the previous Sabbath. Thus was the old lady consoled and comforted 
until she was able to be taken again to the house of prayer. Now, 
was not that the work of an angel ? And was not she a ministering 
spirit? B." 



THE PASTOR'S WIFE. 



103 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THE PASTOR'S WIFE. 

After a residence of nearly two years in Bloom- 
field, Mary E. Sm alley became the wife of John W. 
Sarles, Pastor of the Central Baptist Church, Brook- 
lyn, and returned to the place of her baptism and 
the city of her birth. 

Previously she had been in that church but one 
year, and yet all knew her. Unbidden, her memory 
had been treasured by young and old ; scores, it 
afterward appeared, had hoped that she might be- 
come their pastor's wife ; some of the senior mem- 
bers had even debated the propriety of naming it to 
him; and, it is not too much to say, that, in the 
church and congregation, the delight was universal 
when she returned. Nor was one of them disap- 
pointed in the estimate they had formed of her. 
Continuously she redeemed the largest expectations. 
It is strange, and out of the ordinary range of ex- 
perience, but if subsequently anything she ever did 
or said was unfavorably criticised, it has never come 
to the pastor's knowledge. 

From that time till she entered into her final rest, 



104 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

a period of six and a half years, her heart, and head, 
and hands were full to repletion. In the culture of 
her mind, and the discipline of God's providence 
and grace, a development had been reached that was 
fully ripe for prompt, intelligent, intensely earnest, 
Christian life. She knew not again the meaning of 
leisure ; and light, life, and energy were noiselessly 
thrown into whatever she attempted. Of these 
manifold engagements the briefest hint will suffice. 

Relatives and friends were made so welcome, and 
their hours of quietude were so beguiled by her, that 
they loved to visit her home and prolong the tarry. 
This occupied, indeed, much time ; but these were 
not lost opportunities, nor were such indulgences of 
friendship suffered to infringe upon her higher re- 
lations to Christ and his church. Her Christian 
privileges at home, and her covenant obligations 
with the church, were held sacred. The employ- 
ments of the kitchen, working with her own hands, 
were as grateful as those of the parlor, serving the 
Lord in both. No number of friends, no hour of 
coming, and no want of notice or preparation ever 
disconcerted her or caused even momentary agita- 
tion. The saying got abroad that our house was 
made of India-rubber, because there was always 
room for another. The entertainment of mission- 
aries was a special luxury ; and on either side of 
the globe, prayer ascended for her and hers from 
hearts where she had a place that can never be taken 



105 



from her. The marketing, and, as far as possible, 
the care of the family, were assumed by her, to leave 
her husband free for pastoral work. 

With the church, in its manifold interests, she de- 
lighted to be thoroughly identified. Besides its many 
ordinary meetings, she was committed, in all the 
promptings of her renewed nature, to the Sunday 
school. Very soon a class of young ladies, including 
most of her former scholars, was again gathered about 
her. There was less occasion now for writing, and 
for the most part, her communications with them 
were unwritten, and lie treasured in the memory 
alone, against " that day." The early paling and 
wasting of one of the number, however, did call forth 
several letters. As this was the same one to whom 
were written the letters in the preceding chapter, 
letters that, without solicitation, providentially came 
to my notice, and as near this point a long bright 
sequel begins to open, some of them should be added. 

Miss M. R. was now so ill as not often to leave 
the house. Together with some home-made wine 
and jelly, Mrs. Sarles sent the following note : 

My dear Marion : — I have thought of you often, dear M., and 
have prayed for you earnestly. If we have no hope in the Lord 
Jesus Christ we are standing on slippery places. Our lives are 
held but by a thread at best. When we are in perfect health 
death may cut us down in an instant ; and when sickness comes 
we are entirely dependent on God alone. It is better for us — for 
you, my dear, to weep now over your condition, and call on Jesus 
for mercy, than to live an eternity in the lost world, where there 
5 * 



106 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

is " weeping and wailing, and gnashing of teeth." As you value 
your own soul, " seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon 
him while he is near." " Ask, and ye shall receive, that your 
joy may be full !" Has he not been kind to you all your life 
long? While you have forgotten him, has he ever forgotten 
you ?" " Return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon 
you ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon !" We can 
not approach God except through a mediator. Jesus has died 
that we might live. He is the way to God. Place yourself in 
his care. Let him take your heart, for you can not make it bet- 
ter ; he alone can do that. Do not let Satan induce you to put 
it off. If you thought you would not go to heaven when you die, 
— if you sincerely thought so in your heart, you would be supreme- 
ly miserable ; life would be intolerable. But you do not think of 
this. You mean to seek the Lord, but you keep putting it off, 
way in the distance, years from now. Dear child, let not Satan 
so deceive you. You have no lease of life. God may call for 
you this week, or to-morrow, or this very night. Will you not 
pray to the Savior ? Ask him to save you and cleanse you from 
all sin. What a merciful compassionate Savior he is ! He will 
not cast you off if you come to him. He will receive you with 
open arms. If you are conscious of hardness of heart, of igno- 
rance, of inability to understand the word of God, he himself will 
teach you, — oh ! how willingly. Oh ! that I might see you rejoic- 
ing in hope of the glory of God, hear you speak of the precious- 
ness of Jesus, and tell your friends of his wondrous love ! 

Heaven is where Jesus and all the glorified saints are : ask 
yourself if you would enjoy that society. You can easily answer 
yourself by looking into your heart. Do you love the society of 
Christians as Christians ? Do you love to hear them talk of Christ 
— talk to you of Christ ? If not, then heaven would be no heaven 
to you. If not, you are not born again, and " except a man be 
born again he can not see the kingdom of God." 



107 



These longings were to be amply satisfied, these 
prayers fully answered. Unremitting in her atten- 
tions, she waited patiently for the Lord. At length 
the morning dawned and came the happy day when 
Marion knew that Jesus had washed her sins away. 
Upon receiving the information Mrs. Sarles imme- 
diately wrote : 

Sunday Night. 

My dear Marion : — Mr. Sarles brought me home such joyful 
news to-night, that I must needs sit down and write to you. I 
feel assured God has heard prayer in your behalf, and become 
your portion forever. For his great mercy toward you, you have 
your life and eternity to praise him in. Will it not be blessed to 
fall at Jesus' feet, and praise and adore the wondrous love that 
has plucked you as a brand from the burning ? Can you not 
realize how lovely is Jesus ? How sweet his name sounds ! God 
has opened your spiritual eyes, and you are in anew world. Oh ! 
ray dear Sunday-school scholar, pray for your dear companions in 
the class. Some of them are so wild and thoughtless. None, 
except M., has any hope in Jesus. As you have opportunity, 
pray for strength to speak a word for your Master. Keep close 
to your Savior. As a little child clings to its parent in danger, 
so cling to him. " He will never leave you nor forsake you." He 
is stronger than Satan, for he has vanquished him and" brought 
life and immortality to light." Don't look at your heart, dear M., 
for you will see there only sin ; but look away to the Lamb of God, 
who died for you. Now may your faith grow brighter and brighter 
unto the perfect day, and may your heart be filled with the " peace 
of God that passeth all understanding !" 

Called away from the city, and detained by ill- 
ness in the family, Mrs. Sarles wrote from New 
Rochelle : 



108 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

June 22, 186G. 
My dear 31. : — "With what different feelings did I view you 
when this sickness occurred, from what I would have done had 
you still been opposed to the blessed Savior. I knew I could not 
see you for a long time, perhaps never again on earth ; but I felt 
assured that the Lord was your friend and helper, your strength 
and righteousness. I knew that you had no enemy to fear, for he 
is stronger than sin, death, or Satan, and that he would conquer 
all your foes, and lead you safe to heaven. It may be that your 
Lord will not gratify some of your desires ; for instance, you are 
sighing for the green fields and the clover-scented air of the 
beautiful country. Perhaps it is his will for you not to go ; but 
oh ! he will give you the graces of submission and patience instead. 
He will lead you by the green pastures and still waters of his 
love, and direct your eye of faith upward to that beautiful country 
whose "sweet fields" are beyond the "flood" of death. Keep 
close, my dear girl, to your Savior, do not leave his side for an 
instant. Ask him for all things you need. He will hear you just 
as he did in the days of his flesh. Ask him to send his Holy 
Spirit into the hearts of the Sunday-school class. Speak to dear 
M. L., about her precious soul. Oh ! that she would be wise and 
heed the voice speaking to her ! If you have opportunity, speak 
to the others ; but if none presents itself, pray for them. 

A little while later, at the age of sixteen, Marion 
fell asleep in Jesus. 

That attachment and death called forth for the 
widowed mother these inspiring verses : 

SCARCELY SIXTEEN. 

Scarcely sixteen ! 

And her dear form lies hid 
Under the weight 

Of the coffin lid. 



THE PASTOR'S WIFE. 109 

Scarcely sixteen ! 

And her grave clothes to wear, 
Crossed are the white hands, 

Smoothed the dark hair ; 
Cold is the forehead, 

And wondrously fair. 

Scarcely sixteen ! 

How youthful to die ! 
Hope in her bosom 

Was up-gushing high ; 
The bud gave promise 

Of a beautiful flower, 
But we saw it wither 

And fade in an hour. 

Scarcely sixteen ! 

Yet passed from the strife, 
The turmoil, the endless 

Commotion of life. 

Scarcely sixteen ! 

Tet in bliss untold, 
In the beautiful city 

Whose streets are gold ; 
Through whose pearly gates 

Confusion and sin 
And sorrow and pain 

May ne'er enter in. 

Scarcely sixteen ! 

Tet entered the joy 
Of the glorified saints 

In Jesus' employ ; 



110 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Singing the song 

The redeemed only sing, 
Casting her crown 

At the feet of her King. 
Washed in his blood, 

And safe in his rest, 
Scarcely sixteen, 

And yet so blest ! 



Many a child 

Long years must wait, 
Ere the Father opens » 

The city gate ; 
Must wait till the form 

Is bent and old, 
Ere they walk with the- angels 

The streets of gold ; 
Must wait, till, oh ! 

So weary of sin, 
Of sorrow and pain, 

Ere they enter in. 
But she hath gone home 

In her youthful prime ; 
One moment was spent 

On the borders of time, 
And now she is ever 

In that blest clime. 
Would we have her come back 

To this world of woe — 
Come back from the home 

Where the glorified go ? 
She, passed the dark river, 

Safe on the bright shore, 






Ill 



Come back from the land 

Where they die never more ? 
"We praise, oh ! we praise thee, 

Our glorified Lord, 
For the promise we find 

In thy comforting word ! 
That all who are clothed 

In thy mantle of love 
Shall meet her one day 

In thy presence above. 
And then, oh ! how clearly, 

By each shall be seen, 
Why thou, Lord, didst take her, 

When scarcely sixteen ! 

It was afterward made to appear lier duty to take 
charge of the Infant Department ; and finding great 
delight in it, she there spent the last four years of 
her life. With Bible stories ever fresh and multi- 
plying, and in a style of charming simplicity, she 
held those little ones spell-bound. With fixed, 
sparkling eyes, and with open mouths, they sat ; and 
when at home, if kept away by storm or for punish- 
ment, they cried. With the same unreserve she de- 
voted herself to the weekly female prayer meeting, 
the sewing society in its season, visitation of the 
sick, care for the poor and suffering of our number, 
and for poor children, orphans, and those worse off 
than orphans. An instance of this latter kind of 
toil, with its reward, may be here given : 

While in Bloomfield on a tour of visitation anions: 



112 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

those who did not attend the house of God, she came 
across a German family, between whom and herself 
such mutual interest sprang up, that it continued 
till her last labor of love on earth was finished. 
There was a boy in the family, some fifteen years 
old, who was mostly blind, and otherwise deform- 
ed physically and intellectually. That boy turned 
to her as for life, and clung to her with a deathless 
attachment. Not long after her return to Brook- 
lyn this family also came, and " Blind Charlie," 
as we called him, soon found where her home was. 
He was so warmly welcomed, that from that time 
his visits with her were frequent. Had he been 
beautiful to look upon, or been gifted with a bril- 
liant intellect, or been allied to some far-famed 
family, he could not well have been received with 
more consideration and tenderness. The sequel ex- 
plains it. Not many months had passed when that 
uncomely visitor became a bright trophy of redeem- 
ing grace. His surprising knowledge of divine 
things, with such a clumsy mind ; the marvelous sym- 
metry and beauty of the new man ; the freshness and 
originality of his thoughts of Christ ; the cordial sur- 
render of his little all ; his deep solicitude for the un- 
converted of his family, — all this served to bring out 
a hidden depth of meaning in that passage : " Jesus 
answered and said : I thank thee, Father, Lord 
of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid these 
things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed 



113 



them unto babes." In February, 1861, Charlie made 
a good confession before many witnesses ; was bap- 
tized and joyfully received into the fellowship of the 
church. After a bright career of two or three years, 
and after a scene of long, sweetly submissive suffer- 
ing, he was carried from his poverty to Abraham's 
bosom. 

This jewel was for her crown. It was she who 
was used in digging him from that deep and dismal 
quarry. The memory of her delight in pouring light 
upon his dark mind is yet fresh. How noble and how 
great she was in this humble service the angels saw ; 
and now that gem sparkles in her crown, and will 
forever glow there. 

A weekly prayer meeting for young ladies, most 
salutary in its influence, was originated and guided 
by her. In a note to one, she writes of this meeting : 

" I was glad you were at prayer meeting yesterday. Try to 
come as often as convenient. I know you have many duties 
through the week, but this is only half an hour each Saturday, 
and it is to meet our dear Lord, who died that we might live. I 
know you will feel strengthened for Sabbath school, and all re- 
ligious duties by identifying yourself with this meeting. If you 
can not come often, come when you can. Have it once and a 
while at your home, and God may pour you out a great blessing. 
Try to bring M. and M. E., and any whom you may influence. 
I feel that this little meeting is stripped of every inducement 
but simply ' meeting Jesus.' Oh, that the Lord may bless the 
dear young girls, and lead them in a ' plain path !' 

" Lovingly, ." 



114 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

She lent her warm support to a week evening 
Bible class that was also for the young. On the oc- 
casion of its first anniversary she sought to popular- 
ize with the young such pursuits, by an unexpected 
entertainment for the throngs that crowded our 
home ; and also contributed these lines : 

"OUR BIBLE CLASS." 

Months, years — aye, scores of years — must pass, 

Ere we forget this Bible class. 

Come hours of ease, or hours of pain, 

We'll live these pleasures o'er again. 

And when for each shall opened be 

The portals of eternity, 

Think you will pass with earth away, 

Their precious, holy memory ? 

No ! Some whom angels fly to meet, 

Some who the pearly gates shall pass, 

Some who shall fall at Jesus' feet, 

Shall praise him for this Bible class. 

" 'Twas there," in melting strains they'll sing, 

" I found thee precious, oh, my King ! 

'Twas there thy Holy Spirit sought ; 

There showed me self, and freely taught 

Thy grace, thy love, thy righteousness. 

Oh ! Christ anointed, thee I bless, 

That thou didst place me there to find 

Thy wondrous touch on eyes once blind !" 

But some, with shuddering, may see 

Each wasted opportunity 

Pass by in panoramic scene, 

And shrieking, cry : " It might have been 1" 



115 



To these stern charges then be mute : 
" Why didst thou trample under foot 
The precious gold, the sparkling gem ;— 
Fling from thy brow the diadem, 
Scorning the robe of righteousness ; — 
Eefuse the riches of my grace, 
Heedless of warnings often given, 
Choose endless woe, despising heaven ? 
Thou knowest, within thy inmost heart, 
My fearful sentence just — Depart 1" 



Forbid it, Lord, that some who meet, 
And seem to sit at Jesus' feet, 
Should banished from his presence be, 
Throughout the long eternity ! 



The bread upon the waters cast, 
We feel is to be found at last ; 
The seed with prayer and faith we sow 
Shall yet in living beauty grow. 
The reapers Jesus sends, shall come 
Laden with sheaves for harvest home ; 
His word shall prosper, where he sends ; 
When God's wind blows, the forest bends ; 
When God's sun warms the frozen streams, 
They leap with joy beneath its beams ; 
God's rain falls on the barren ground, 
And buds and beauteous flowers are found. 
Then shall his word less prosperous be ? 
No ! Life and immortality 
It brings to light ; and God will make 
Its harvest sure for Jesus' sake. 



116 MEMORIAL OF MABY E. SABLES. 

That all who meet from week to week, 
And of this glorious gospel speak, 
May find the Way, the Truth, the Life, 
Sincerely prays 

Your Pastor's "Wipe. 

So completely at command had she the affections 
of the young people, that even reproof from her was 
accepted with thankfulness. There was a time when 
she had seen a young member bending under the 
temptation to frivolity in the house of God, and she 
quietly addressed a note to him. The reply now be- 
fore me illustrates what I have just said, and is so 
worthy of a Christian young man that I give it place, 
as a model to be studied : 

Brooklyn, July 25, 1864. 

My dear Sister :— I write this in answer to the kind letter you sent 
me. I thank our dear Lord for letting me have a friend that tries to 
do me so much good,— tries to keep my feet from slipping when I go 
into the house of God. 

My conscience troubled me yesterday when I was engaged as you 
saw me, but the letter you wrote seems to go home to the right spot. 
I feel that I have done decidedly wrong ; and I will try, with the help 
of God, to live nearer to him hereafter. I often do go astray from him ; 
but his love is so great that he always brings me back again. I would 
not give up my hope in God if I do act so indifferently sometimes. I am 
so glad you sent me that letter. I can not tell you how it makes 
me feel that any one of the church should have to speak to me on such 
a subject. * * * The Lord is precious to my soul. I love him but 
I want to love him more. Pray for me, that I may be kept in the right 
way, and may grow in the knowledge of the truth. 

For the profitable entertainment of young friends 
who occasionally gathered at our house, she started 
a paper called the Home Journal. 



117 



The success of this experiment at home originated 
the purpose to form a society, that should be com- 
posed of the members of the church and congrega- 
tion, particularly the young, having as its great 
central object the reflection of light on the word of 
God. 

When all was matured, it was formed thus : a 
President, Vice-President, and Secretary, the latter 
a lady ; a paper in the hands of two editors, ladies, 
to be made up editorially and by original contri- 
butions from the members, and read every two 
months ; sis five-minute selections from travels or 
researches, or anything that will throw light on 
the Bible, to be read semi-monthly by three ladies 
and three gentlemen ; singing from the Devotional 
Hymn Book interspersed ; and at all of the meet- 
ings, a portion of time devoted to brief discus- 
sions of Bible questions previously announced ; and 
closing with a sociable interchange of thought and 
feeling for promoting friendship and acquaintance. 
It is called : The Sacred Literary Society of the 
Central Baptist Church. She designed it to meet a 
need of the young, to secure gatherings that should 
be under elevating influences, and associate them 
with personal efforts in the most ennobling pursuits. 

The young members of the church and congrega- 
tion were lying heavily on her heart. She dreaded 
the blighting influence upon them of the popular 
entertainments of the times, and longed to show them 



118 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

convincingly the only excellent way. This Society 
was the fruit of much prayer, and of her tenderest 
thoughts for the young of all classes. It has served 
to acquaint the members with sources of informa- 
tion about the Bible of which they might long have 
remained ignorant ; it has enlisted some of the best 
gifts in the elucidation, of Scripture ; has provoked 
searching investigation ; subjected popular errors to 
consuming tests ; displaced long-cherished and per- 
nicious impressions ; drawn about it some of the 
sweetest influences felt in the church, — weight of 
years, with gentleness and elevation of character ; 
and has developed gifts of so high an order, as 
sometimes to startle while they have delighted us. 
Sleepless vigilance will indeed be needed to hold 
it firmly to its high purpose ; but thus far it has 
exerted a thoroughly salutary influence, and gives 
promise of vastly more than at first we had dared 
to hope for. The blessed Lord has smiled upon it. 

Additional to our own denominational enterprises, 
the Woman's Union Missionary Society of America 
for Heathen Lands, from its origin, had her warm 
sympathy and steady co-operation. 

With adoring gratitude, she saw that women were 
signally favored under the gospel ; felt that they, 
more than others, were laid under obligations to 
Christ and to their sex, — that yet neither the debt 
of gratitude nor the claim was appreciated. She was 
glad of this effort by women to call out the multi- 



THE PASTOR'S WIFE. 119 

plied activities of women, believing also that efforts 
for heathen women were not sufficiently direct, and 
that there was work in that department which 
women could better perform and would better su- 
perintend than others. 

Of Mrs. Doremus, the President of the Society, and 
the many gifted and noble who are associated with 
her, and the spirit that characterizes all their transac- 
tions, she never spoke but with feelings of devout 
gratitude for the grace God had bestowed upon 
them. She accounted them worthy successors of 
those women who in the days of his humiliation 
" ministered to him of their substance." 

Yery early among the efforts to enlist little chil- 
dren over the land in mission bands auxiliary to this 
Society, Mrs. Sarles formed one among the small 
children of our church and congregation, and called 
it " The Morning Star Band. 77 They always held 
their meetings at her house ; and in her absence, 
they still love to gather where they first rallied. 

She also wrote much, wielding one of the readiest 
of pens. Epistolary writing was done with the ease 
of conversation, and to many it appeared, like her 
conversation, faultless. Nor was any species of 
writing that she attempted a labor. Verse, in sweet 
and lofty strains, was thrown upon paper with a 
spontaneity that was marvelous. There was the 
power and the disposition to elaborate, but not the 
time, nor, in her judgment, the high order of poetic 



120 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

gift, to justify it. She thought that very few of her 
pieces, though in poetic form, should be dignified 
with that name. In her later writings there was 
even less of elaboration than formerly, this multi- 
plicity of engagement rendering it impossible ; and, 
besides, stern, practical life made it appear less 
desirable. 

To all kinds of labor for sailors and soldiers dur- 
ing these late years of war she applied herself, visit- 
ing them when practicable, and sending away to 
them, in hospital and camp and on shipboard, needed 
comforts and many letters. 

To do all this required, in certain respects, con- 
tinual self-denial and almost crucifixion. Love for 
painting was in her a passion. She held it under 
constant restraint. When occasionally she indulged 
in it, the day seemed but an hour. It was only be- 
cause she might be more usefully employed that this 
needed relaxation was rarely allowed. The walls of 
my house are adorned almost exclusively with paint- 
ings and drawings and sketchings by her own hand. 
Practice would have given her great eminence in 
that art. 

Some three years since, at a reunion of the Asso- 
ciated Alumni of the Packer Collegiate Institute, 
when each, by request, was to furnish a sketch of 
her intervening history, the one by her hand read 
thus : 

" A few years after leaving my beloved teachers and school- 



THE PASTOR'S WIFE. 121 

mates, a terrible affliction was sent upon me, which changed 
my whole course in life. 

" Some time before that period I had become a member of a 
church. I supposed myself a Christian, and no doubt, if my 
death had occurred, my friends would have eulogized me as very 
exemplary. 

" In God's great mercy this trial came, and I sought to fiod 
consolation in my religion. Alas ! it was a broken reed. I had 
really no God ; I was without hope in the world. My soul was 
utterly desolate. These were the means employed to make me 
see my evil heart and to lead me to call upon God for mercy. 

"Before this time my ambition had been — a name in this 
world. Since that period I can truly say, my worthless name I 
am willing to have lost in the glorious name of Jesus ; my high- 
est ambition is . in some way to glorify him ; my greatest joy 
comes from a sense of his approval, and I consider myself among 
the most honored of women in being permitted to work in his 
vineyard. 

" In the year 1859 I was married to J. W. Sarles, of Brook- 
lyn, for many years pastor of the Central Baptist Church, in this 
place. 

" The life of a pastor's wife I have found a happy one ; for not 
only are the people kind and considerate, but I do sincerely 
believe they reciprocate the warm affection I feel for them. 

" The trials of a pastor's wife I know little about. The work 
of a pastor's wife I begin to be familiar with. I do not mean 
that she has more duties to perform than any other Christian 
woman. This would be a different world did every woman 
' naming the name of Christ' earnestly desire to do his will ; but 
the pastor's wife has a work peculiar to her own sphere. Her 
word is often the little pebble thrown into the waters, sending 
the circles far away toward the distant shore. Her good words 
and example are often the few notes without which the harmony 
is incomplete. There are paths for her alone to tread ; seeds for 
6 



122 



MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



her alone to sow ; flowers for her to cull, and sheaves which she 
alone can gather. 

" He who puts this honor upon her is the King of kings and 
Lord of lords. Why, then, need she seek the honor that comes 
from the world ? 

" I have had two children. One, the angels carried to heaven 
three years ago, and I feel that his education is in the hands of my 
best Friend. My remaining child is a little girl, of four years and 
a half, a merry romp ; of course, amazingly precocious, as all only 
children are. What she will make remains to be seen when her 
school-days commence at the Packer Collegiate Institute. 

" In conclusion, I would say that I remember with deep affec- 
tion my former instructors, particularly the one whose example 
has been to me as remembered strains of sweetest music. I refer 
to our dear friend, Miss Smith. I would say, also, that many of 
my schoolmates live in my memory, and that my home would 
seem all the pleasanter from the visits of my instructors and 
themselves." 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 123 



CHAPTER IX. 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 

The selections for the present chapter have been 
so made as to fairly represent the author's varied 
habits of thought, — ranging freely and rapidly from 
playful childhood to maturest age, from chastened 
mirth to the solemnities of death, and from melting 
tenderness to the sternness of judgment ; as, also, 
further to show her evenly developed powers, sym- 
metry of character, and versatility of talent. 



PRAYER. 



A morning prayer, a morning prayer, 
Kiseth like incense on the air ; 
Or like the perfumed breath of flowers 
Ascendeth from this earth of ours. 
The aged sire's trembling tones, 
Or widowed mother's lonely moan,, 
Or maiden in her purity, 
With hands tight-clasped on bended knee, 
These all are beautiful ; but infancy, 
When hushed is all its lightsome glee, 
And clasped the little hands in prayer, 
Speaketh more plain that God is there ! 



124 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



DESCRIPTION OP SCENES ON SHIPBOARD AND AT SEA. 

A little bit of Jersey shore is visible, the rest is all — all sky 
and ocean meeting. The sun is setting behind a narrow strip of 
land, — a great red ball, tinging with the same color the sky and 
the ocean. Every wave blushes with its radiance, and the sky 
seems but a reflection of the waves. * * * Oh, dear me! this 
incessant clatter of dishes, — this intolerable smell of cooked vict- 
uals, — this continual crying of babies, — this lolling on sofas ; 
but the sense of suffocation on the vessel is worst of all. I want 
to push away the berths, knock away the deck, and am not con- 
tent until I have a seat on the upper deck roofed only by the sky. 

One poor man is certainly in affliction ; for he has a sick wife, 
a sick baby, two sick little boys, one sick girl, and one sick big 
boy. They lie around like poor sheep ready to be taken to the 
butcher. Such disconsolate faces, such groans and sighs, are 
laughably pitiful. People go dancing about the deck, tumbling 
over benches, knocking against other people, enable to steady 
themselves. Poor sick wives lean heavily on the shoulders of hus- 
bands, and poor sick husbands lean their heads wearily on their 
wives' shoulders. Some, more independent than the rest, sit and 
lie down on the deck till the boards become too hard for them, 
and they seek some other place. 

The three great events of a day at sea are sunrise, sunset, and a 
sail. To-day a vessel passed way off in the distance, and I felt as 
if I were out West seeing one solitary man. 

This morning, as soon as I waked, I got up. It must have been 
very early : for the light was quite dim, but it was just springing 
up, — it was sown, and by and by we shall see its glorious efflo- 
rescence,— the sun. I went on deck, but finding it wet there, came 
back again, and, seating myself on my carpet-bag, watched at my 
state-room window. The east was of a dim reddish hue ; but one 
spot was a trifle brighter than the other parts. This one point 
seemed to contract and intensify in color until it was the hue of 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 125 

scarlet ; then one spot of gold, and then suddenly one half of the 
sun skimming along the water like a golden boat filled with angels, 
making wavy lines of effulgence way across the ocean seemingly. 
In one minute the whole sun came up and rolled along the level 
table of the ocean like a ball of fire. I watched it long, wishing 
you were all here, till it sprang from the waters, as if disdaining 
them, and commenced its journey through the heavens. 



MISSIONARY ANNIVERSARY. 

" Cast tliy bread upon the waters, and thou shalt find it after many 
days." 

Lord, our bread upon the waves we throw, 
This trifling seed with prayer and faith we sow ; 
Knowing that after many days are past, 
We find again what on the waves we cast. 
Seeing that thou a harvest, Lord, canst make 
Of seeds we plant for blessed Jesus' sake, 
Oh ! let this offering, humble though it be, 
The gospel send, that some may learn of thee, 
That idols from their hearts and homes be thrown ; 
And thou, Savior, reign as God alone. 

The Home Journal, referred to on page 116, in its 
Introductory, playfully affects as much as most other 
journals. 

EDITORIAL. 

The Home Journal and Family Visitant will be published 
semi-monthly, from our rooms, No. 216 Schermerhorn Street, 
Brooklyn. Its columns will be devoted to religious and sensible 
secular literature, to science and art. A little corner will be 
reserved for bon mot and wise sayings, giving it a spice that all 
will relish. 



126 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

With our able corps of contributors, we hope that soon the 
Home Journal and Family Visitant will be the -paper of the day, 
and that " Eureka !" being our motto, we shall succeed. 

Among the male contributors are, the Rev. Josephus Maxfield, 

D. D., LL. D., the Rev. , and Lawyer O. S. Willet. Some 

of the lady contributors are, Lady Jane , Esther Jane Barrett, 

Queen of Tyre, and Mrs. . 

Yielding to her natural humorous instincts, Mrs. 
Sarles, in a burlesque on the derivation of names, 
gives a sample of the spice promised. 

NAMES. 

Perhaps some of our readers may feel interested in the origin 
of the names of our contributors. First, then, we proceed to the 
name Maxfield. 

This name may be either of German or Irish origin, probably 
the first. The name Max is German decidedly, and feld is also a 
German word, meaning plain, field, etc. Probably some ancestor 
of this distinguished gentleman was a baron by the name of Max, 
possessing an immense estate, wooded lawns, fine farms, etc., and 
in order to distinguish him from the poorer men by the name of 
Max, he was called Max von Feld, afterward anglicized to Max- 
field. 

If the name is of Irish origin, then, we think, our learned con- 
tributor exceeds his ancestors in wealth and station. 

In all probability, the name of Mike, owner of some fruitful 
field, is the clue to the mystery. Mike's field being noted for the 
best potatoes and cabbages, the name of Mike's Field adhered to 
him and his descendants for years. Now the name is American- 
ized into Maxfield. However, we think the first theory the better 
and more correct one. 

We proceed. Lawyer Willet probably descended from some 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 127 

stern and rigid men of the Oliver Cromwell stamp, one whose 
word was law, and whose words, " I will it," and " I will it not," 
became proverbial, so that it stamped them and generations 
following with the name Willet. Lawyer Willet possesses much 
of the same spirit, and his firm " yes " and " no," accompanied by 
a shake of the head, may be heard any time a question is asked. 

Esther Jane Barrett, Queen of Tyre, owes her name to a cele- 
brated Indian Chief, by whom some of her ancestors were taken 
prisoners. The name of the Indian was Red Bar, or Eed Bear, 
afterward civilized to Barred or Barrett. 

In the same number are also lines of weighty im- 
port, like the following : 

FALSE BENEVOLENCE. 

There is often a deference to the views and feelings of others 
most amiable. Some men, however, are so sensitive to the rights 
of others in this respect, that they will yield, not only all that is 
due, but virtually their own convictions. This is not only not 
required, but they have no right to do it. 

We love to see the deference that is compatible with integrity, 
to the fullest extent. Beyond that, it is a weakness that is not 
proof against the temptation to betray what has been intrusted 
to them. 

Suppose a man were equally sensitive to the Lord's views and 
judgment, knowing that he must be right, what could tempt that 
man to yield what he believes to be truth ? 

Here is true dignity, when one is so sensitive to the Lord's re- 
vealed will as to part with all the world rather than give up one 
jot or tittle. 

The second number of the Journal, for January, 
1864, opens with a running review, both serious and 
playful and stern : 



128 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



EDITORIAL. 

The old year has passed away with blood-stained robes. The 
book of its account, crossed and recrossed with its dark records, 
has been sealed up until the solemn and impending judgment. 
Oh ! my soul, how stands thy record there ? 

The new year was ushered in all in a shiver ; and if indica- 
tions are right, our teeth will " chatter, chatter still." His birth- 
day was duly celebrated with good cheer and the compliments of 
the season. Ladies, dressed in their prettiest, waited and smiled 
on exquisite beaux and sensible men. 

Our subscribers and contributors had due notice of our pleasure 
to receive calls at our office, and, of course, everybody came. 

Our partner in life (who, by the way, is an excelle nt man) 
somewhat jostled our feelings on the subject of temperance, by 
inviting every visitor to walk in the back room and " take some- 
thing." We interposed invariably the words : " Coffee or lemon- 
ade ? Nothing stronger." 



I, John t> has gone to his last account. We open to the 14th 
of Isaiah : " Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at 
thy coming ; it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief 
ones of the earth ; it hath raised up from their thrones all the 
kings of the nations. All they shall speak and say unto thee : 
Art thou also become weak as we ? Art thou become like unto 
us?" 

Pompous and with great display was this man carried to his 
narrow bed ; while many a poor saint falling asleep in Jesus was 
carted, poorly coffined, to a pauper's grave. 

One record is, " John died and was buried ;" the other 
" was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom." 

We may seem severe, but we know that he that hateth God's 
word must hate God, no matter what the profession of sanctity. 






MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 129 

The two pieces that follow are selected from the 
same number : 

TO JULIA. 

My darling sister Julia 

Has gentle, dove-like eyes, 
And a smile upon her features 

Like sunshine ever lies. 
Yet the smile is but the flowing o'er 

Of the love within her heart ; 
And it shines and sparkles in her eyes, 

A witching, guileless art. 
May sorrow never cloud her smile, 

Nor dim those eyes with tears, 
Nor disappointment breathe a curse 

Upon her after years. 
Yet should the falling shadows 

Blend darkly into night, 
God send the stars of hope and love 

To guide her steps aright. 



THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 

It is felt to be a great point when a family can command the 
services of a splendid physician, whose fame is world wide. Better 
still if he is the nearest neighbor, so as to be within call. 

Another great point is when he has long known our family — 
the family ailments — the constitution of the children. This gives 
him great advantage over another of equal skill. 

Much more than all this is Christ in curing sin. He is the 

physician of souls. He came to the world to save sinners. He 

knows the history and nature of the disease. There is not a 

feature of it, there is no form of it, no stage of it from its incip- 

6* 



130 MEMORIAL QF MARY E. SARLES. 

iency to its consummation that he does not perfectly understand. 
Its seat and source, fountain and streams, its deepest and most 
secret impulses, of all these he has a knowledge so complete that 
we can not conceive of its fullness. 

He knows as well what to do for it — how it can be reached — 
when to do, and how to do, and he has prepared himself to take 
it in hand, as a physician takes a disease for treatment. 

He stands alone to meet sin. Another to meet sin is not, and 
never will be. All created intelligences look upon sin in utter 
helplessness. He is one immediately from off the throne. 

His services are at command. He is nearer than your nearest 
neighbor. He is nearer than your own thoughts. By day and 
night, every instant, he is within call, and one never dies in his 
hands. He never administered an injurious remedy, he was never 
baffled for an instant. He makes no charge. All he does — and 
he never refused a call — he does without money and without price. 

The call of the sick upon the physician is like the sinner's call 
upon Christ. Look at the case of the sick man, who is debating 
the question of calling in a physician. 

How perfectly absurd to think that he must see to it that be- 
fore he calls there shall be some favorable symptoms, and he must 
watch closely for that point, never thinking of sending while the 
symptoms are getting worse. The moment, however, there is a 
favorable turn hastens off with all speed for the physician. 

You know how directly opposite to the common-sense view this 
is. The worse the patient, the greater need of medical advice. 
If anything favorable appears, we hesitate, hoping we can do 
without a physician ; but a return of the disease decides he must 
be called at once. 

But a sinner, in making application to Christ to be healed of 
sin, thinks he must wait till some favorable symptoms appear — 
till his purposes are all right and formed, he must not entertain 
the thought (he supposes) that Christ will answer a call. If sin 
rages — if there is hardness, impenitence, unbelief — nothing but 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 131 

, • 

apathy or love of sin — if all is sin, don't think (he says) of calling 
upon Christ until sin subsides. 

If Christ came not to call the righteous but sinners to repent- 
ance — if he came to meet and conquer sin, if he is the only 
physician, how absurd this view. There is no promise that he 
takes the case in hand unasked, while there are numerous promises 
that not a solitary call will be unanswered. 

A letter written on a visit in Brooklyn while the 
family resided in Bloomfield : 

Brooklyn, August 2, 1858. 

My dear little pet of a Sister : — Yery likely you and Annie have 
been to the post-office every day, expecting a good long letter 
from me. Here it is. I am not partial to excuses, but I must 
preface this letter with one. The pen is not my own, and the ink 
is none of the best. So if my writing is not a facsimile of Gold- 
smith's best attempts, you will excuse me. By the way of expla- 
nation of the above allusion, I would say, Goldsmith is a writing 
master in New York, not the poet of long ago. By the date of 
this letter you see I am in Brooklyn. Here I am, sitting in Aunt 
Jane's rocking-chair by the back window, a penny magazine lies 
on my lap, and on it the paper, and the ink bottle on the dressing 
table. So much for preliminaries. 

Last Friday, about half-past one, the cars took me down to 
Newark, and from Newark to Jersey City. It commenced to 
rain then, and by the time I landed at Brooklyn it poured in 
torrents. Thinking it would stop before we got to Jay Street, I 
took the car. Alas ! it came harder, and at the corner I ran into 
a grocery store ; there, about fifteen minutes were spent, when, 
getting tired of this, I put up my sun-umbrella, and ran as fast 
as possible to Aunt Jane's. By the time her stoop was reached, 
I was a sight to behold : my " bran new " mantilla was festooned 
with rain-drops, and a heavy fringe of dripping water ; petticoats 



132 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

and stockings were mud, mud ! and the umbrella was streaming 
all down my hat. By dint of pulling and ironing, all these 
things were restored, and I ran up stairs to see the people. 
Aunt Sarah, Mary, and Aunt Jane, were sitting in the back 
room, and at my unexpected appearance, concluded I must have 
rained down. They were very glad to see me, and of course 
wanted to hear the news. Then, in return, they told me of their 
whereabouts - . * * * 

Friday night we went to covenant meeting, and enjoyed it 
exceedingly. Very many spoke and prayed. It was a spiritual 
feast to me. On Sunday morning I went to Sunday school, and 
taught the girls. They made me smile with their expressions of 
endearment. The sermon in the morning was from the words : 
" Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will 
give you rest." He showed clearly who was the one invited, — who 
was " heavy laden. " It comforted me, and it may prove a bless- 
ing to you ; so here is the outline : The heart bowed down with 
penitence is the feeling heart ; the burden has been removed, and 
there is room for tears of gratitude and joy only. The heavy-laden 
soul is the one conscious of a burden of sin ; but finding no peni- 
tence, no light within, all is darkness and the shadow of death. If 
contrition were present, there might be hope. The law condemns 
him, and the gospel is beyond his reach. He thinks he must have 
penitence to bring to Jesus. To such an one, Jesus says : " Come 
unto me." Eepentance is with Him as well as faith. The Chris- 
tian is addressed, also, by these gentle words. In Jesus he finds 
all he needs. * * * In the afternoon the sermon was from 
the text : " Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the 
sepulchre ?" In the evening was the concert of prayer for missions. 
The whole day was delightful, and I enjoyed a rich treat. This 
morning I went to prayer meeting. * * * 

Now may God bless you both, and keep you in safety. Seek 
out, my dear sister, all the opportunities for doing good. Pray 
for J., that he may be brought to know that his Redeemer liveth. 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 133 



MEDITATIONS ON THE WORD OP GOD. 

" And I sent messengers unto them, saying : I am doing a great 
work, so that I can not come down ; why should the work cease 
whilst I leave it, and come down to you ?" (Nehemiah vi., 3.) 

Nehemiah was engaged in building up the walls of Jerusalem. 
Christians are instrumental in building Christ's kingdom. 

Sanballat and his evil associates sent messengers to Nehemiah, 
that he should leave the work and come down. He refused, an- 
swering them : " I can not come down," etc. 

Christians are constantly annoyed by the world urging them to 
meet with them. If they hearken, the work of the Lord ceases in 
their particular quarter, the light is hid under a bushel : " Ye can 
not serve God and mammon." Answer should be made to such 
temptations in the words of Nehemiah. Christians have no time 
to mingle in worldly pleasures, they have the work of the Lord 
to do, with one hand holding the weapons of warfare, and the 
other engaged in building. They, indeed, have a great work 
to perform ; it is the Lord's work, it is the work of winning souls 
to Christ. If they leave this noble calling, and descend to the 
plains of pleasure, their work ceases most decidedly ; God is 
dishonored, Satan triumphs in the temptation. 

The two pieces that follow were contributed for a 
school entertainment : 

SNOW. 

- How beautiful the snow ! 

With mantle pure and white, 
It hides the barrenness of earth from sight. 
Clothes, ermine like, the monarchs of the wood, 
Who, stretching out their naked arms, have stood 
Imploring pity of the chilling blast. 



134 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Snow-laden is the hemlock foliage, 

And, as with human sense, 

Points downward to the earth with eloquence, 
And from the snowy shroud men lessons read, 
Of life, of age, of death. Would they would heed 

The teachings that Jehovah giveth thus ! 



HOME. 



Two little maidens went one day 
Into the shady grove to play ; 
And while with moss and acorn cup, 
They built a fairy palace up, 
And, laughing, crowned their curling hair 
With chestnut leaves and flowers fair, 
An old man chanced to pass that way, 
And sat him down to see their play. 

They did not fear the aged man, 
But bade him watch their palace fair ; 
Told him of many a childish plan, 
And showed the garlands on their hair. 
He kissed each merry, laughing face, 
And at their pleasant prattle smiled ; 
He said : " Sweet girls, where do ye dwell, 
Where are your homes, I pray you tell ?" 

One said : " I dwell below the hill, 
Near by the waterfall and mill ; 
Around the stoop the creeper grows, 
Near by our house the river flows ; 
There on its banks I often sit, 
And watch the sailing vessels flit 
Like birds across the water blue ; — 
See through those trees, it is in view." 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 135 

" My home is in the city, Sir," 

The other said, with gentle air ; 

" Our windows look, like great eyes, down 

Upon the grim and dusty street : 

I do not like the noisy town, 

The roll of wheels, the tramp of feet ; 

I like the free, fresh country air, 

The trees, the fields, the flowers fair. 

But let us know, kind Sir, I pray, 

About your home, is't far away ?" 

The old man bent his silvered head, 
Then raised his face, and smiling said : 
" I have a home of wealth untold, 
The streets are paved with shining gold, 
The city gates are brilliant pearls, 
Did you e'er hear of it, sweet girls ? 
There is no night in that fair land, 
Life, joy, and peace walk hand in hand. 
No death, no sorrow, enter there, 
No cries are heard of pain or care. 
My home is heaven. Yet not the gold, 
The splendors tongue has never told, 
Would I desire in heaven to share, 
If Christ my Savior were not there." 



TO 



Your eyes are telling me you love ; 

Does not your heart rebel ? 
For eyes and hearts are separate things, 

Alas ! I know too well. 
You speak * * * * 



136 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Mine, is a heart — a callous heart ; 

For disappointment's breath 
Has breathed upon its mysteries, 
, And calmed it into death. 

Long years of love must pass before 

That heart can live again, 
Before affection's lute can play 

That old endearing strain ; 
Long years of faith and love, before 

My heart could e'er be thine ; 
For memory comes of days gone by, 

My once loved valentine. 



The following lines were prepared, by request, for 
a Sunday-school exhibition : 

TOBACCO. 

There is a weed- of wondrous fame, 
Tobacco is its curious name ; 
By reptile, bird, and beast abhorred, — 
Food for a worm, like Jonah's gourd, 
And yet by man almost adored, 
Tobacco! Oh! tobacco! 



See yonder noble creature stand, 
With dainties spread on every hand ; 
Yet to his shame be it confessed, 
He hugs tobacco to his breast, 
For it would part with all the rest — 
The vile, vile weed, tobacco ! 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 137 

He says : " It gave this listless stare, 
I once was rosy, once was fair ; 
It gave my face this sallow hue, 
Tis all because I chew and chew 
The weed I love ; but which friend you 
Insist is vile tobacco I" 

Another tells, his lungs are weak ! 
The flush speaks volumes on his cheek, — 
He smokes ! But he will quickly say : 
" 'Tis all my comfort night and day !" 
Poor man, to puff his life away 

With this vile weed, — tobacco ! 

Then an old lady has catarrh, 
And often, too, our dear grandpa 
Has headache, and must surely take 
The snuff so vile, we think, to make 
Themselves disgusting, for the sake 
Of this same weed, — tobacco ! 

What robs the Christian smoker's pence ? 
What dulls the Christian chewer's sense ? 
And why so often shakes the head — 
So oft the geh'rous thought quite dead 
When a benevolent cause is plead? 

What robs the poor-box of its due ? 
Why sometimes fails the rent of pew? 
Why cry our missions from abroad : 
" We faint, we fail, for want of food ?" 
It is because the dues of God 

Are spent on vile tobacco ! 



138 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Oh ! Christian men, we pray you heed, 
When souls your time and money need. 
Were half the means thus idly spent 
To God our great Creator lent, — 
They'd bring us in a mighty store, 
Pressed down — the measure running o'e 
And oh, the satisfaction known, 
-"-■ Of giving Jesus but his own ! 
Exalting him, to thus dethrone 

The tyrant vile, — Tobacco ! 



MISSIONARY ANNIVERSARY. 

Bukmah stands with arms outstretching 

Toward our favored land, God ! 
From the desert to the jungle, 

Where thy messengers have trod, 
Comes the anxious, pleading cry : 
" Give us Jesus, or we die !" 

Thou hast sent thy laborers, Jesus, 

For the harvest fields are white ; 
Through the gloom of heathen darkness 

Gleams the day-star's glorious light. 
Take this offering in thy hand, 
Bless it, Savior, to that land. 

Near the close of 1860, when our first child was 
about two months old, she wrote : 

While looking at our little sleeping daughter, I think about 
the beautiful lines, the last Mrs. Judson wrote when her little one 
was born. These lines keep running in my mind : 



MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES. 139 

" Hear, my God, one earnest prayer, 

Room for my bird in Paradise ; 

And give her angel plumage there." 

I do sincerely pray for my little daughter, that the Lord would 
early convert her and make her his dear child. This is the only 
desire I have respecting her, for all the rest I leave entirely at his 
disposal. If God should grant her to me a long time, I pray 
that her years from early childhood may all be devoted to him. 

Dear little gift to us, I can not feel too thankful for her perfect 
form and senses, and apparently sound reason. May her soul be 
also perfect in the Lord Jesus Christ ! 

In July, 1863, she lost a little boy of five months, 
after sixteen hours' illness. In its suddenness, it fell 
upon her with almost crushing effect. Not long after 
she wrote the following : 

Our darliDg baby-boy is dead ; the gentle blue eyes are closed 
forever to this world ; his little lips are pressed together by the 
hand of the destroyer ; his hands, those darling little fingers that 
clasped the parents' strong finger, are cold and motionless beneath 
the coffin lid ; a body too lovely it was to bury ; a body too fair 
for the worm to prey upon ; but so it must be. 

How then, oh, mother's heart, how then can you be comforted ? 
What relief can you draw from ihe tomb and the image of death ? 

The Lord from heaven, my blessed Savior, suffered death that 
our little one should live again. He broke the bars of death. 
He triumphed as he rose, and he went to prepare a place for his 
saints. Jesus loved our little son better than we ; therefore, hav- 
ing prepared his heavenly mansion, he has taken him to dwell 
in it. 

I, his mother, fondly nursed and tended him. Jesus now carries 
my lamb in his bosom and administers to his little spirit more joy 



140 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

than any earthly being could imagine. Then his bringing up and 
education are taken out of our hands entirely. The Lord is his 
teacher ; his associates, the " saints of all ages ;" his servants, the 
angels. What a blessed companionship is this ! What melodious 
sounds he hears ! He was fond of some melodies I sang to him, 
but oh, how he delights to hear and join in that song : " Worthy 
is the Lamb that was slain I" He loved to gaze fondly in my 
face, his mother's ; but oh, with how much more delight his spirit 
drinks in the sweet looks of Jesus and listens to the melting 
accents of his love ! 

We know that when we shall see him again, his expanded soul, 
his lofty intellect, will astonish us his parents ; for, as I said before, 
the Lord himself is his teacher. 

Then Jesus will come and all the saints with him ; our little 
son being one of the saints, shall come with Jesus wearing his 
resurrection body and glowing in immortal beauty. 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 141 



CHAPTER X. 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 

Probably no months in the life of Mrs. Sarles were 
more calmly cheerful, or more fruitful in generous 
plans, than the last three. She was deeply engrossed 
with the spiritual interests of the church and congre- 
gation. Many letters were written ; self-sacrificing 
purposes were formed and executed for the relief of 
the suffering, and much was accomplished in making 
provision for coming months in her own family. 

A sufficient number of articles, written during that 
period, has been obtained to tell of the triumph of 
grace over temporary bodily infirmity, and to make 
manifest the strong tide of sanctified affection that 
was setting in heavenward. 

Written for the paper of the Sacred Literary 
Society, to be read at its meeting in March, 1866 : 

THE BIBLE. 

Of no book are the masses so ignorant as the Bible. The 
accomplished young woman, conversant in all modern literature, 
often shows a pitiful lack of that word which is called a " lamp 
to our feet and a light to our path." The elegant and traveled 
man frequently feels its study beneath him ; while the Koran, the 



142 



MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



works of Confucius, and other works of ancient lore, are eagerly 
perused. Thus are the living waters left for the broken cisterns. 

Now, to many of us, a willful neglect of the letter of God's 
word seems very pitiable. The poor old slave is not despised on 
account of his ignorance of the spelling-book ; but we hold an 
accomplished person highly culpable for the same. To such a 
one no credit is due, if in all the elementary studies he is correct, 
but great discredit if he err therein. So the heathen, who have 
not heard of the " book of books," are not responsible for their 
ignorance of it ; but the nations who already possess it, and have 
every opportunity for informing themselves concerning it, and yet 
neglect its teachings, are verily guilty. Among other marks of 
ignorance of the teachings of the Bible is misquotation. Persons, 
who would shrink from this fault in regard to the poets, are very 
often cajeless when the Bible is mentioned. " God tempers the 
wind to the shorn lamb," " That bourne from which no traveler 
returns/' and similar expressions, are frequently attributed to the 
word of God. It was a custom at a minister's table for each 
person to repeat a verse of Scripture. One day an elegantly 
accomplished lady was guest. It came her turn, and instead of 
honestly confessing her ignorance, with blushing face and stam- 
mering tongue, she said, the only verse she could think of was, "A 
stitch in time saves nine." Some gentlemen were riding in a 
stage, and the subject of daily expenses being discussed, said one, 
with a wise look : " Well, in the midst of life we are in debt," 
adding, " I suppose that is a perversion of St. Paul." If he had 
studied his Bible he would have found no such expression in St. 
Paul's writings, for the words are in the Book of Common 
Prayer. 

One would suppose that in this favored land the matter of 
morality, as no plea with God, would be better understood, the 
word seems so explicit on this point. " By the deeds of the law 
there shall no flesh be justified in his sight ;" " Now to him that 
worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt," and 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 143 

similar passages, teach it so plainly, that wayfaring men, though 
fools, need not err therein. The great truth of our Savior's dying 
for the ungodly ought to be comprehended ; but so sadly is this 
book neglected, that its plainest teachings are not understood. 
Whether we believe these truths or not, we are certainly very 
culpable for our want of intellectual knowledge concerning them. 
" The entrance of thy words giveth light," we are told. His 
word is always used in the conversion of sinners. Happy is that 
convicted and mourning one whose heart has been early stored 
with the word of God ! The Holy Spirit brings to remembrance 
the things that Jesus said. God can, and often does, use a single 
verse of his word to bring one to a knowledge of his love. But 
happy is the man whose understanding is " filled with the knowl- 
edge of his will !" 

Oh ! friends, be ignorant of its teachings no longer. It is before 
the world a storehouse of vast wealth, of profound knowledge ; a 
great unexplored country of infinite resources; and he who is 
ignorant of it loses intellectually vastly. But what is the intel- 
lectual knowledge to the spiritual, and who can give this but the 
Holy Spirit? This saves the soul, and may be had for the 
asking. 

Not by the world alone is this precious volume neglected. 
Alas ! it often lies dusty and neglected upon the shelf, opened 
very seldom by those who profess to love its Author. Now, we 
know it is to be the " man of our counsel." We are to search it, 
" as for hid treasures." (See Thomson's Land and the Book.) 

Says the inspired writer : " Thy word have I hid in my heart, 
that I might not sin against thee." " When the enemy comes in 
like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall set up a standard against 
him." How ? The preceding verse explains how. The hiding 
of God's word in the heart is effected by searching it, pondering 
upon it, and praying for light ; then in every circumstance, when 
Satan takes advantage of weakness, trials, or bodily infirmities, 
to bring upon us a flood of doubts, fears, and temptations, the 



144 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Spirit of God comes in by his grace, and lifts up this standard, 
the word, against him. Thus, " the entrance of thy word giveth 
light," scatters the darkness, and " the path of the just" through 
it " is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the 
perfect day." Oh, glorious sun ! why do we shut our eyes to its 
effulgence? Surely we are like the disciples whose eyes were 
holden. Our eyes, our hearts, our affections, are so engrossed with 
the world that we do not understand " the wondrous things out 
of thy law." 

Once I saw the sun arise from the ocean. First, streaks of dim 
light sprang up in the east, through the gray twilight ; then a 
warmer glow spread over the horizon ; soon a particle of intense 
light seemed to spring suddenly into being, reflecting itself far 
upon the heaving billows ; instantly the round, red sun, in all its 
beauty, rested upon the plain of waters. 

I have often thought of it since as an illustration of that pas- 
sage, " Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the up- 
right in heart." The truth of God implanted is light sown in our 
hearts, and the glorious Sun of Righteousness appears finally in 
his beauty and splendor. 

Written to a young girl sinking in a rapid de- 
cline, whose Catholic father cruelly persecuted and 
abused her because she wanted to learn about the 
Savior of sinners : 

My dear young Friend ; — I have heard that you are quite ill, 
with a probability of your disease ending in death ; so you will 
not be displeased, I am sure, at my writing to you. 

I want to talk to you about the dear Savior of sinners, — that 
blessed Jesus who came from heaven to save just such sinners as 
you and I. 

" He ever liveth to make intercession for us" — not the Virgin 
Mary — not the saints — not our dear departed friends, but Jesus. 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 145 

He lives. He can hear your prayer. He will not turn away his 
ear. He is nearer to you than your own thoughts. Lift your 
desires to him. Call upon hira. " Every one that asketh receiv- 
eth. He that seeketh findeth — to him that knocketh it shall be 
opened." 

Perhaps you feel your sinfulness. Ah ! what sinners we are I 
" There is none that doeth good, no not one." We have not loved 
our heavenly Father, who gave his dear Son for sinners. He has 
poured out his blessings upon us, and we have returned him 
nothing but ingratitude. We have not loved the dear Savior, 
who died to redeem poor sinners. We are, indeed, guilty — guilty; 
and we need to place our hand on our mouth, and our mouth in 
the dust, and cry : " Unclean — unclean !" 

Who can forgive sins? God only ; and we can come directly 
to Jesus, who is God, and say : Thou dost say, blessed Jesus, 
" Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I 
will give you rest." 

" Ask, and ye shall receive." " Look unto me, and be ye saved 
all the ends of the earth, for I am God and besides me there is no 
Savior." 

My dear young friend, you may feel yourself very weak ; go 
to Jesus for strength. You may feel your ignorance ; he gives 
wisdom. You may feel yourself a blind sinner groping in dark- 
ness ; Jesus, blessed be his name, can give you light. Though 
many adverse circumstances may surround you, the Lord Jesus is 
nearer than all, and he can make all things plain. Go to him 
with all your sins and weariness, and be assured he will give you 
himself. 

" There is salvation in no other." We need no other Mediator, 
no other Intercessor, for he is God himself, and he has died for 
those for whom he pleads. Oh ! if you will but look to him. In 
the silent hours of the night lift up your heart to him ; at your 
various work, call upon his name. 

It matters not what is done to the poor body, if our souls are 



146 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

living in the Savior. Our poor bodies may be burned, or sawn 
asunder, it matters not. Leave all that with God, and seek an 
eternal rest in heaven. Oh ! that some word in this letter might 
lead you to look from yourself to Jesus, " the Lamb of God, who 
taketh away the sin of the world !" 

This letter explains itself : 

My dear Friend : — I have often wished to have a religious con- 
versation with you ; but the opportunity has not presented itself, 
so I have thought I would write and express to you my warm 
interest in your eternal welfare. 

You will remember that we were both confirmed in the Episco- 
pal Church the same day. For myself, I was a deceived person ; 
I had no particular knowledge of my sins, no faith in a Savior's 
precious blood. The thing seemed duty, and I did it with nerv- 
ousness and trembling. No doubt many who knelt at that altar 
were renewed persons and rejoiced in a Savior's love ; but I did 
not, and it may be you did not. How long I might have gone 
on in my deceived state I can not say, had not my heavenly 
Father sent bitter affliction upon me, and aroused me from my 
slumbers. This was the means he used to show me my vile heart 
and lead me to Jesus' feet. 

Now, my dear friend, I would ask you : " Are you saved ?" 
Does the sweet assurance come to you — " I am saved, I know it ; 
I feel it ; I can call God ' my Father ;' I know that Jesus has 
washed me in his precious blood ?" It may be you do feel this. 
It may be you do rejoice in a Savior's love. But if you do not, 
please do not rest until you know that the Savior is indeed yours. 
May you appropriate him to yourself, and feel that " his blood 
cleanseth from all sin." "He that has not the Spirit of Christ is 
none of his," the word of God states ; and if we have not the Holy 
Spirit sent from the Father and the Son, we are not " born again." 

If you feel that Jesus is not yours, do ask earnestly for the 
Holy Spirit, for all may have him for the asking, to guide 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 147 

you into all truth. Do not, I beg you, defer it until some future 
time ; but remember " now is the accepted time ;" " to-day if ye 
will hear his voice." 

The " strait gate " is so narrow, that we can take none of our 
righteousness or morality with us ; but we must go just as we are, 
" without one plea," but that his blood was shed for sinners. 

May God add his blessing and enable you to feel sure you are 
" a child of God," to grow in grace and in the knowledge of his 
will ; and if you do not realize the forgiveness of sins, to go to 
Jesus the mighty Savior for all things. 

Sincerely your friend. 

To one who had made no public profession of at- 
tachment to Christ : 

Brooklyn, March 2d. 

My dear Cousin: — I have felt so concerned about your precious 
soul of late, that I am constrained to write to you. Will you not 
read these few lines, as I have written them, prayerfully ? 

I remember once you were very ill with some fever, and we 
thought you were to die. God, in his infinite mercy, raised you to 
health again. I know then you had serious thoughts about this sub- 
ject. God was calling you then, dear cousin. Friends have been 

taken from you, and at last a loving snatched away from your 

sight. God was calling you then also. Now, in his mercy, he is 
bidding you seek him. Through his Holy Word, by Christian 
friends, by the still small voice of conscience, he bids you " seek 
the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near." 
" now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation." My 
dear cousin, it is not to-morrow, or next week, or next year, but 
now, while you read this letter, while you think upon the truths 
it contains. " To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your 
heart." No to-morrow is mentioned, no future time pointed out. 
We may not live until to-morrow, and then, without a trust in 



148 MEMORIAL OF MART E. SARLES. 

Jesus, where will our souls be ? "Would I could in some way in- 
fluence you to attend to this momentous question now, to-day, 
" before the evil days come." In this I am powerless ; but I can 
look up to God for Jesus' sake, to send his Holy Spirit into your 
heart. 

I desire that you may have a new heart ; and by this is meant, 
a heart that loves the Savior better than anything else. God 
alone can give this. Will you not ask for it ? 

You know as well as I do, that God's word teaches that our 
morality can not save us. " By the deeds of the law shall no 
flesh be justified." Those who try such a method must render 
perfect obedience to the law, and this you know is comprehended 
in the Savior's words : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and 
with all thy mind ; and thy neighbor as thyself." Who can live 
up to this holy law ? " Now to him who worketh is the reward 
not reckoned of grace, but of debt." Yes, it must be paid to the 
fullest extent if we undertake it ; but, dear cousin, read the re- 
mainder of that beautiful verse : " But to him that worketh not, 
but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly" — who is that ? 
It is Jesus, my adorable Savior — " his faith,"— whose faith ? The 
faith of the poor sinner who dares trust this Savior — " his faith 
is accounted for righteousness." Oh ! how wonderful that our 
heavenly Father will receive us for Jesus' sake, and account our 
faith in Jesus as righteousness ! 

Will you not now think about your soul, and call upon the 
Lord Jesus to make you his ? " Now if any man have not the 
Spirit of Christ, he is none of his ;" and if we are his, " the Spirit 
itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of 
God." Do not rest, dear cousin, until you feel assured that the 
Holy Spirit, God himself, has made your heart his dwelling-place. 

I should love to have a line from you. I feel deeply concerned 
for your eternal welfare, for I know that no matter how good and 
noble our lives are, nothing avails with the Father but the plea 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 149 

of his Son's precious blood ; and oh, what a plea is that ! May 
God grant you his Holy Spirit to make the plea, and rejoice in 
that precious atonement. So prays your affectionate cousin. 

In a letter to one who had long been her associate 
teacher in the infant department, and who had re- 
cently married and gone to St. Louis, she writes : 

Brooklyn, April 25, 1866. 

My dear Maggie: — Tour welcome letter came day before 
yesterday, and as it is very important just now that I " do not put 
off till to-morrow what can be done to-day," I commence a reply. 
It is a great mercy that you arrived safely at the end of your jour- 
ney. * * * God's hand was over you, and not a hair of your 
head could be harmed. Our meetings still continue with earnest- 
ness. Last Sabbath four were baptized, and others await the or- 
dinance next Sabbath. I have not been out since last Friday 
evening, and I can assure you I feel the deprivation keenly. * 
* * It will give you joy to know that Mrs. F. G. has been 
converted, and that Willie Storms was baptized last Sabbath. A 

singular thing occurred at N , last week : A deputation came 

from a colored Methodist Church to N , saying, that sixty of 

its members, with its pastor, had come to the conclusion that 
sprinkling was not to be found in God's word, and they all wanted 
to be baptized. Simultaneously, a company of twenty from 

H came on the same errand. I do not know how the matter 

will be arranged. Bro. F. G. baptized fifteen persons last Sab- 
bath. * * * 

Thursday 26th. — Mr. Sarles tells me this morning that both of 
Bro. Field's sons have been converted, and are rejoicing in the 
Lord. Bro. Mackenzie's son is also converted, and will relate his 
experience on Friday evening. So the good work goes on gradu- 
ally and silently. May it never end with us ; but may God's peo- 
ple be built up, and sinners converted among us daily. Spiritu- 



150 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

ality is what I desire for our dear church. Wealth, position, and 
honors fade away in comparison with it. Oh, for praying, world- 
despising Christians ! May our heavenly Father bless you, dear 
child, as he has in the past, and cause that you and your dear 
husband may consecrate yourselves more wholly to his service. 
Living in the world may you not be of it, but " live in the Spirit," 
and feel that " Christ is in you," that " ye are dead, and your life 
is hid with Christ in God." We wish you all the blessedness that 
the gospel has to bestow, and we desire so much of worldly pros- 
perity for you as God sees best. 

Written to a cousin, the wife of Rev. Caleb Davi- 
son, Missouri : 

Brooklyn, April 30, 1866. 

My clear Cousin : — I have been thinking about you very often 
of late, and wondering how you are, — all of you. It is a long, 
long time since I have heard a word from you. Would it not be 
pleasant to live near each other, that our children might become 
acquainted, and have a merry play once in a while ? I feel the 
need of child companionship for my little Maria ; she is such a 
premature old lady in her remarks ; and although she romps around 
from early morning till night, still it is all alone she is, except 
with dolly. Street education I abhor ; and I much prefer, of the 
two things, delicate health and good morals, to robust health 
and wicked impressions. So she spends her time with the grown 
people of the house. If God favors, however, I hope to be over 
a trouble in a few days, and then she will have a constant source 
of amusement. When you write again, tell me all about your 
little ones, — how they look, and what they say. Tell Mary I 
wrote a letter to her once, but have received no reply as yet. I 
hope one of these days to see her. 

God has been blessing and is still blessing us as a church. For- 
ty-two have been baptized since the first Sabbath in March. The 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 151 

good work still goes on quietly and steadily, without any undue 
excitement attending it. Our people are afraid of outside ma- 
chinery, and do not employ it ; but look directly to God's Spirit 
for a blessing. 

Now much love to all, — Mr. D., and the children. "Write me 
about difficulties, as well as joys. 

An intimate friend of Mrs. Sarles writes : 

" Talking with her about a month before her sickness, she looked 
upon me with a face full of the sunshine of contentment, and said :" 

" I feel perfectly at ease in regard to it. I have committed it 
entirely to the Lord. I know as my day is, my strength shall be. 
My husband is anxious, but he is very glad I take it so easy. 
I know what the trial is ; but after I have passed through it, I 
think it seems to me as Paradise must seem to those who have 
just left the weary earth." 

In a note to this same friend two days only before 
her illness, she says : 

" God's time is the best. It is a weary road to travel, but the 
end of it pays for all the trials. The Christian can place all in the 
hands of the Lord, and leave it there. "We are so apt to take our 
cares back again." 

From among all the pieces which she had previous- 
ly written, she reproduced but one for the Sacred 
Literary Society ; and that one she brought forward, 
as if by prophetic foresight, for the last meeting that 
was held during her lifetime. That meeting was in 
May, 1866, and the piece is herewith given : 



152 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



THE SHIP OF DEATH. 

[Suggested by a translation from the German representing the ship of death 
leaving the shores of time, and bearing the spirit of the dead over the dark 
waters to the land beyond.] 

" Soul ! the ship is nearing port, 
Thou the voyage must take, 
Cometh she with shades of night 
Or at morning break." 

Lo ! the soul heeds not the warning 

Of the whisper soft, 
But of dark forgetfulness 

Quaffs he deep and oft, — 
While the ship as daylight dawneth, 

Sure but silently, 
Cometh in a vapor shrouded, 

Rising from the inky sea. 
O'er those dark and dismal waters 

Comes nor voice nor sound : 
Shadow of a shadow seems she, 

In the silence bound. 
At the helm a spectre steereth — 

Skeleton so grim — 
With the misty vapor round him 

As a mantle dim. 

Whither is this stranger vessel ? 

From what far-off sea ? 
With the pennon black and dismal 

Hanging listlessly ! 
From the voyager in that vessel 

None these things may learn, 
For he setteth cut alone, 

And never may return. 



THE LAST THREE MONTHS. 153 

In the chamber there is wailing, 

Tears and wild lament, 
For the stern and spectre helmsman 

For the soul hath sent. 
And he goeth on the vessel 

With a hurried groan, 
For he leaveth all his riches, 

Taking voyage alone. 
Whither does the vessel bear him, 

With its pilot grim ? 
Ah ! the thing is mystery, 

Mystery all dim ; 
But some say the voyage endeth 

In a land of dread, 
Where the very light is darkness, 

Silent as the dead. 



Stiller than the night-dew falleth, 

Swift as wings of time, 
Cometh now again the death-ship, 

Awfully sublime : 
But upon the shore one standeth, 

Clothed in garments white, 
While through all the dark are streaming 

Rays of living light, — 
And he gazeth earnestly, 

With joy upon his brow, 
For beyond the gloomy ocean 

Heaven opens now ! 
And he knoweth well the death-ship 

Mooreth to a land 
Where all pure and holy voyagers 

Form a joyous band ; 



154 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

And at thoughts of Christ the holy 
Gloomy thoughts have fled, 

For he knoweth, He once entered 
In that vessel dread. 

Lo ! the ship hath neared the shore, 

But he fears not now, 
For he sees with strengthened vision 

Angels at the prow ; 
And he pondereth on the promise, 

" Thou shalt never fear 
When through waters dark thou goest, 

I thy course will steer." 
Lo ! the soul is not alone, 

For who those words hath given 
Sitteth pilot at the helm, 

And steereth safe for heaven ! 



The poem now following was composed expressly 
for the paper of the Sacred Literary Society, to be 
read at the meeting in May, 1866, and was her last 
writing of poetry. 

OUR GREAT HIGH-PRIEST. 

" He is able to save to the uttermost all who come unto God by him, seeing 
he ever liveth to make intercession for them." 

O Mighty Priest ! thy perfect sacrifice 
Before thy Father thou art ever pleading, 

Able to save ; for all who come to Him 

Through thy rich merits thou art interceding, 

E'en to the uttermost. Thou dost not turn away 
The vilest sinner who thy love is needing. 



THE LAST THEEE MONTHS. 155 

Why art thou living now, O risen Jesus ? 

Is it to be adored by the angelic throng ? 
Is it to listen to the mighty chorus 

Borne rapturously by heavenly choirs along ? 
The feeblest cry from earth " for Jesus' merits " 

Reaches thine ear before the wondrous song. 

For this thou livest — to be my Intercessor, 
To bear before thy Father prayers like mine, 

To clothe such souls in robes of spotless beauty, 
And o'er those robes in bright effulgence shine ; 

So that thy Father sees in us thy glory, 
And feels our claims are equal, Lord, with thine. 

Yet who can wonder when the wondrous story 

Of thy earth-life we once again unfold, — 
How for earth's scenes thou once didst leave the glory 

Of pearly gates and streets of crystal gold 
For scorning adoration — holiness for sin — 

And thou didst die in agony untold ? 

O risen Jesus ! let my poor petitions 
Eise with the incense of thy perfect plea ; 

Take thou away the vail of doubts and sadness 
That hides " the glory of the Lord " from me ; 

Let me no longer through a glass peer dimly, 
But face to face, my Intercessor see ! 



156 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



CHAPTER XT. 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 

On the 31st of May, as by a chariot of fire, our 
dear one was parted from us and taken up. In- 
stinctively I refuse to call it death. Her little boy 
born on the 12th, was then nearly three weeks old. 
A few evenings before, she had spoken of unusual 
depression. Her health, the needs of the little one, 
the future of life altogether seemed dark, and she 
wept while speaking of it, at the same time chiding 
the unbelief it betrayed. It was for a brief hour 
only. Like a dream of the night it had passed away. 
On the morning of this day she was bright and buoy- 
ant, even to playfulness. It was so ordered that 
during most of the forenoon I was with her, and we 
talked of many things. Her mother and her little 
daughter, who had gone to New York, were to be 
back in the afternoon. At a quarter before twelve 
o'clock I also went out, to return at one, leaving 
with her, of the family, only her sister. I returned 
at one. When leisurely approaching my house I 
saw two or three carriages standing in front. I 
noticed them particularly, but it did not occur to me 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 157 

that their appearance there concerned me ever so 
remotely. As our own physician was accustomed 
to call once in two or three days, I supposed that 
one was his, and that, without design, the others had 
called at the same hour upon my neighbors. 

I found my door ajar. Still I only thought that 
my family was not usually careful. Upon entering, 
I saw in my parlor my neighbors from either side of 
me, one weeping, the other extremely sad. Some- 
what aroused, I asked the cause of their appearance. 
The attempted evasion startled me, and I supposed 
that injury, possibly by a fall, had come upon some 
of my household, or upon some friend, who had been 
brought in. In another instant I asked if my wife 
was not as well. No words were needed to tell me 
that she was the object of solicitude. I turned hur- 
riedly to go to her, when they attempted to detain 
me, saying that the physicians were there, and they 
would speak to them. Of course, I could not be de- 
tained, and pressing on up into the room, what 
was my dismay when forthwith I saw her lying in 
that last deep sleep! Could it be reality, or had 
sudden madness seized upon me ? Of the family her 
sister only had been with her, and she was now sit- 
ting at the head of the bed quite frantic, understand- 
ing only imperfectly what she said or did. 

Our mother and daughter came later, came happy 
and smiling, and entered the parlor where many 
were gathered, before the shaft was allowed to strike 



158 MEMOEIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

them. Only a mother could describe that hour. 
But our history may not be further obtruded here. 

The mystery had been explained to me thus : Five 
minutes after I left, Dr. Hull drove to the door. 
Mrs. Sarles was sitting on the side of the bed. Hear- 
ing the carriage stop, she remarked : " That's the 
doctor, and I am not ready. 77 Presently he was on 
the stairs and heard her request that he be detained 
a moment in the parlor. A minute later, she cough- 
ed slightly, pressed her hand tightly to her heart to 
still some sudden pain, turned deathly -white, and 
was falling back on the bed partially sustained by 
the nurse. The doctor, hearing the alarm, was in- 
stantly beside her. In a few moments she recovered 
from the strange shock, and seeing them anxiously 
gazing upon her, smilingly inquired, "What is the 
matter ?' 7 and quickly answered, " Oh ! I only faint- 
ed ! 77 and asked the doctor for a little brandy. 

The physician already understood the serious na- 
ture of her illness, and had resorted to the most vig- 
orous treatment. He also called to his aid an 
associate physician from the opposite side of the 
street. Everything that medical skill could suggest 
was administered with singular promptitude. Though 
suffering much from a sense of suffocation, she spoke 
familiarly of several passing things, — suggested a 
change of position to relieve the one who was rub- 
bing her, and brushed the mustard from the sleeve of 
her nurse. Once she said there was some relief. 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 159 

Upon the return of keener sufferings, she asked 
the doctor if he could relieve her. He expressed a 
hope that he might. Moving her head, she said it 
felt like a seventy pounds weight. Then clasping her 
sister's hand, she pressed it fervently to her side, and 
turned upon her a last long look of yearning affec- 
tion and desire, as if to bear in that look all she 
would have said to the absent loved ones, and then 
appealing to the Great Physician, prayed : " Lord, 
relief, — send relief, dear Lord !" Her prayer was 
answered. No struggle, not a movement ; peacefully 
she sank into his loving arms, — " languished into 
life,' 7 and was forever " at home with the Lord." 

Had the sun suddenly disappeared at noon, the day 
could not well have seemed more black or dreadful. 
For weeks it was hard to refrain from appropriating 
the language : 

" That day, let it be darkness : 
let not God from above seek for it, 
nor light shine forth upon it. 
Let darkness and death-shade reclaim it ; 
let clouds rest upon it ; 
let darkenings of the day affright it !" 

Playfully she had said once and again : " I do be- 
lieve something is the matter with my heart," and 
there had been an occasional sense of suffocation ; but 
one serious thought of heart disease had not entered 
our mind. 

In the course of a few days a sealed letter, directed 



160 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

to me by her own hand, and intrusted to her sister, 
was before me. It was dated May 2, 1866, and in- 
scribed thus : 

" To be opened in case of my death. If I should live, please 
burn it up." 

Had I known what she had written, I could hard- 
ly have failed to understand what events were at 
hand. The spirit and language of that letter show 
that she quite knew what was to befall her. Its 
sweet tenderness, its more than earthly dignity, its 
heavenly composure, its love to Christ — to me and 
mine — faithful unto death, its marked separation from 
everything but what the Holy Spirit would prompt 
in an hour of parting from earth, with all the sol- 
emn and blessed realities of the other world — of 
heaven — in full view, all this shows that she knew 
that the time of her departure was at hand. Of the 
hour she knew nothing. Only a few days before she 
was taken, she remarked that she did not count on 
a month in advance now. 

She had been hurriedly engaged in completing a 
gown for me, dresses for the little ones, and arrange- 
ments for the household, as if beforehand she saw the 
shattered condition of the family, and as studiously 
neglecting similar preparations for herself. She was 
eagerly righting up her correspondence, and send- 
ing letters of touching appeal to particular friends 
and relatives who knew not our Lord. As in the 
translation of Elijah, the secret of the Lord was with 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 161 

the one to be taken. While she tenderly withheld 
her deep impressions, she was tasking every power 
to have all besides in readiness. Why did we not 
hear these prophetic voices, — know ye that the Lord 
is about to take away the light of your house, and the 
delight of your eyes ? Her cheerful resignation to 
whatever the Lord might appoint, every movement 
so uncomplaining, so gentle, so patient, — these har- 
bingers of the heavenly world might have told us. 
Her little boy, as if made a partaker with her, and 
" filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother's 
womb," breathed the same spirit. In his great suffer- 
ing and sickness unto death, one month later, there 
was no crying, only suppressed, plaintive moanings 
in his greatest agony, as mild as his mother in hers. 
"Lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their 
death they were not " long " divided." 
In that sealed note she writes : 

" I wish to say that of late I have been enabled to take God 
more at his word, and to trust more implicitly the promises of 
Jesus." 

In another part of it she writes : 

" I have no wish for my children, except that they may early 
know and serve the Lord." 

A letter written by me to the church, three weeks 
from that day, presents as fair a review of the event 
and its connections as I am able to supply at this 
later day : 



162 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Near "Westfield, N. J., June 21, 1866. 
To the Central Baptist Church, Brooklyn. 

Lear Brethren and Sisters : — la your considerate 
kindness, it would be like you not to expect a letter 
from me. I am not so engrossed, however, with per- 
sonal affliction as not to recognize and appreciate 
the deep and widely-felt sympathy you have mani- 
fested, and as also not to remember that you too 
have been bereaved in my bereavement. 

You have done all you could in personal ministra- 
tions ; and I doubt not that you have done a thou- 
sand-fold more in prayer than you have had any 
opportunity of doing otherwise ; for all of which I 
sincerely thank you. But you, too, have been strick- 
en. You have parted with one of the noblest of 
noble women, and a bright trophy of victorious and 
transforming grace. As she was with me, however, 
in every part of my work as pastor, she has be- 
queathed to you, as to me, a precious and fragrant 
memory. To you, and to me and mine, may the 
memory of this righteous one be blessed ! 

This is the twenty-first day since the stunning blow 
fell. Mercifully it has taken days and these weeks 
to come to a tolerably full realization of the extent 
of the desolation that God wrought in that hour. 
With that over-spreading and sometimes unsparing 
realization has come also time to review and re-review 
the providence that at first appeared only dark and 
dreadful. Witli growing clearness, I begin to see 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 163 

that it was " a cup full of mixture," and that in that 
mixture " loving-kiudness and tender mercies " were 
not wanting. I can see that when it is once con- 
ceded that my dear, dear Mary must be parted from 
me, and at this time, — an act in which, by reason of 
the unmeasured depths of His counsels, clouds and 
darkness are round about Him, — I can see that, after 
that concession, all is gentleness and indulgent love. 

Three years before, on the day a little boy, our first, 
was born, my dear wife was passing away from earth 
— had quite parted with all objects of sense ; a few 
minutes more, and there had been no turning back 
to husband or child. Before the peril had become 
apparent to the most vigilant at her side, our attend- 
ing physician, entirely out of his ordinary course 
and unlooked for by us, drove hurriedly to the door. 
He knew not wherefore, but God had sent him to 
save. By that special interposition alone she was 
saved. That same physician, after his calls were 
suspended, on the late 31st of May entered my house 
some minutes before anything but cheer and life 
were seen or felt. Ready to enter the room, he heard 
her familiar voice directing that he be detained a 
moment in the parlor. He was there awaiting the 
appointed moment when he would be our great 
earthly need. 

Surely that arrangement was to tell me, on its face, 
that the Lord had not forgotten to be gracious — was 
not afar off — was near at hand — was thinking upon 



164 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

us — was considering our frame, remembering that we 
were dust — was afflicted in our coming affliction, — 
had weighed every reason for saving that pre- 
cious life ; yes, had made the very same preparation 
for saving that he made before, as if to show how 
easily he could save, and how much it was in his 
heart to save, if thoughts and ways as high as heaven 
did not forbid, the time chosen by infinite wisdom 
having come when what was mortal should be swal- 
lowed up by life. 

It is not difficult to see that loving-kindness had 
largely to do with the choice of the hour and the 
disease. If, after hours of quiet rest, stretching 
all along from midnight till breaking of day, such 
as we often had with this little boy, some one had 
entered the room to find that dear one in the deep 
sleep in which I returned to find her, what a night 
that had been in memory ! "What occasion there 
had been for refusing to be comforted, — for self- 
reproach ! How often our hearts had been pressed 
to the point of breaking with the questions, — when 
her spirit took its flight? how much she suffered? 
how long the conflict? whether she might not have 
been easily relieved ? and whether she did not try 
in vain to call us ? As it is, we have reason to 
believe that she was not aware of the fatal char- 
acter of this sudden attack till within the last one 
or two minutes, when there was left no opportunity 
to feel the absence of mother, or husband, or child, 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 165 

or to sorrow for the helpless little one. To know 
that she was spared all this, and that death was made 
to her so like a translation, more than reconciles to 
the suddenness and severity of the blow. Contrast 
this with wasting consumption, or cancer, or even 

cholera, or with Mrs, , now for three days in 

convulsions. Let me bear the shock in silence. By 
as much as the brevity of the suffering was a special 
favor to her, — all of it not exceeding ten minutes, — 
it is doubly so to me. 

I can not fail to see how tenderly all this contrasts 
with what might so easily and so naturally have 
accompanied death by heart disease. Not in the 
depth of night, but at mid-day ; that day also, not 
dark and gloomy, but mild, and pure, and bright ; 
not rudely, with wild haste, summoned from sleep to 
find ourselves in the presence of death, standing- 
alone before him without a neighbor, our chief 
treasure gone, as if having been left uncared for to 
struggle and die alone j not this amid the solemn 
stillness of night, to intensify the sight that must at 
best pierce our heart, but all of it under the broad 
full light of noon-day, the physician of her choice 
among all physicians, who had once saved her, 
awaiting her first call ; Mrs. Whitley, a widely ex- 
perienced nurse, who had been with her in every 
sickness, the one she preferred above all others, and 
faithful to utter self-forge tfulness, this one guardedly 
watching every measured movement in rising from 



166 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

the bed ; the first symptom of distress caught by her 
eye, the best remedies at hand and almost instantly 
applied, a second physician within call, kind neigh- 
bors pressing in to lend their aid, suffering so brief, 
and death, if it must be called so, altogether so like 
the change without death that awaits the favored 
saints who shall be living at Christ's second coming 
— for all this I have thanked the Lord, and I do still 
thank him. It is due, also, that I acknowledge him 
in it before the people. Even the absence of mother, 
husband, and child, more than likely, was a special 
indulgence to her, thinking that we could not bear 
the sight, and desiring that as far as possible we 
might be shielded. 

During all these later years she lived along famil- 
iar with thoughts of dying. In the first year of our 
marriage, she wrote a letter to her Bible Class of 
young ladies, which closes thus : 

" It may be that I may never teach again. Life may end with 
me in a little while. If we are never permitted to meet again as 
teacher and scholars, remember that your souls' best interests 
were always on my heart. One of the scholars the good Savior 
has taken to heaven. "Would I could say of each one of you, 
that I knew he would take you there if death came. There 
is but one way of escape, Jesus Christ ; there is but one way of 
obtaining forgiveness of sins and peace with God, it is, ' Believe 
on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' 

" It is my earnest wish, dear girls, that you will keep together, 
and attend as regularly as possible on Sunday school. I know 
you will do so, for I feel sure of your love, and know you will 



THE SLEEP IN JESUS. 167 

please me in this respect. If God spares ray life and health, I 
hope to be with you again by-and-by. My love to all of you. 
May grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and our Lord 
Jesus Christ, rest upon each of you, is the sincere prayer of 

" Your loving friend and teacher." 

In the first interview I ever had with her she ex- 
pressed the conviction that her time on earth was 
short, and that therefore she had need of doing 
with her might what her hands found to do. 

The first time I ever heard her sing alone, seating 
herself at the piano, she began : 

" I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger, 
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night ; 
Do not detain me, for I am going 
To where the fountains are ever flowing. 
I'm a pilgrim," etc. 

She carried the hymn sweetly through. She sang 
to me what her future of life was to be ; and now, in 
these lines I read of the blissful home she has reached. 

With advancing days she kept hastening in her 
work, as if she saw night swiftly coming. Every 
faculty was enlisted and the days were crowded with 
toil. Suddenly she reproduced the Ship of Death, 
then wrote that last poem, and in its closing prayed, 

risen Jesus, let my poor petitions 

Rise with the incense of thy perfect plea ; 

Take thou away the vail of doubts and sadness 
That hides " the glory of the Lord " from me ; 

Let me no longer through a glass peer dimly, 
But, face to face, my Intercessor see ! 



168 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

It is so strange that we did not see and could not 
hear. Then she wrote her farewell letter ; and now 
she was watching and waiting the signal of his com- 
ing. She " walked with God, and was not ; for God 
took her." 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 169 



CHAPTER XII. 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 

It is no part of the design of this chapter to attempt 
an analysis of intellectual endowments. In respect to 
that the book itself will suggest all that is desired. 
But familiarity with the every-day thoughts and feel- 
ings of the one departed supplies facilities for singling 
out controlling sentiments that others could not com- 
mand from the reading of a history so brief as this. 
To make these advantages at once available to the 
reader is the present purpose. 



FAITHFULNESS. 

By this I mean such an appreciation of truth, 
God's word being the sole test, as to feel an intense 
desire to know his will, with an immovable purpose 
to stand by it. Mrs. Sarles could not conceive it 
possible that any revealed truth might be unimport- 
ant. The character of God forbade it. She stood 
in awe of his word, and she took it "as a heritage 
forever.'' 7 She could anticipate nothing but disaster, 
near by or remote, from holding any truth loosely. 



170 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SABLES. 

"The wisdom from above is first pure" was "deep 
graven on her heart." Keenly did she appreciate 
the inspired injunction : " Prove all things, hold fast 
that which is good ;" and fully did her life attest the 
fact that she was prepared to " buy the truth" at any 
cost, and to " sell it" for no price. 

Love of principle is here made to head the list of 
characteristics, because in her it was pre-eminent, and 
more widely than anything else that can be named 
controlled her life. While in no disparaging sense 
did she belong to a past -age, she was among the last 
to be found in a modern crowd. Placing herself 
firmly upon the truth, she could afford to wait, and 
wait, and still wait patiently, till God should vin- 
dicate it. 

Her style of writing was in beautiful harmony 
with her clear conceptions, and strong, distinct con- 
victions of revealed truth. Her faith consisted in no 
vague generalities, but each truth stood out like a 
planet in the blue canopy, and all were called by 
name. Her style was the fitting channel for a mind 
intent upon truth, and a heart so moulded as hers 
was by grace. It was direct, clear as the open day, 
and as simple as a child, with figures, when she used 
them, bold and beautiful. 

Such a state of heart gives quickness of perception 
in the reading both of God's word and his provi- 
dence ; and, despite the power of educational preju- 
dices and the counter tides of popular favor, bears 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 171 

onward and upward the enfranchised possessor. It 
was so with Mrs. Sarles. With her well-defined 
views of what constituted the truth, and her tried 
determination to have and hold it at all hazards, it 
was next to impossible that she should not become 
intensely interested in the 



REVISION OF THE ENGLISH SCRIPTURES. 

The Bible it was that brought sweetest peace in 
her deep agony on the sea. In the Bible it was that 
she waited upon God. In that experience a deep 
secret was opened to her — the privilege of immediate 
appeal to God for certain direction in everything 
that concerns his will. But this created a necessity 
for knowing unmistakably what the Lord had re- 
vealed. From the pulpit and the commentators she 
knew that the commonly received version, in some 
particulars, she knew not how many, was not relia- 
ble. Let, then, the scholarship and piety of the 
ages and of the world supply the book that shall 
speak to us as God spoke to the Hebrews and the 
Greeks. 

On these grounds, the principles and objects of the 
American Bible Union commended themselves to her 
grateful acceptance and warm support. Since the 
publication of the New Testament revised by that 
Society, she had used no other, and never could re- 
turn again to the revision by King James. Whether 
changes in the reading were grateful to her feelings 



172 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

or otherwise made no difference, the truth was her 
simple demand. 

Her education politically, and many of her associ- 
ations, were powerfully adapted to conceal from her 
the essential nature of 

THE LATE REBELLION. 

Love for the Bible, however, saved her ; an ear quick 
to catch its alarms, and a heart prompt to heed them, 
saved her from the remotest approach to those meshes 
of political delusion in which many became entangled. 
From the opening to the close of the war, promptly 
and vigorously and persistently, she lent her undivid- 
ed influence to the support of the Government. Her 
loyalty was unconditional ; because, with the Bible 
before her, she saw that the rebellion was in the 
interest of anarchy against which God had set him- 
self ; and that, therefore, parties all aside, God stood 
for one, Satan for the other. 

A disposition to look at things in the light of 
God's word, wherein all that is merely circumstantial 
is laid aside, secured in her, contrary to the tendency 
of many surrounding influences, Christ-like views and 
purposes respecting 

THE RICH AND THE POOR. 

Very deeply were her sympathies with the poor. 
It was thoroughly congenial to her to go to their 
homes, and be much among them. The simplicity of 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 173 

the poorer classes had strong attractions for her. 
She said, that, as a rule, they were easily approached 
with the gospel, the door to their heart stood open, 
the surrender to Christ, when made, was unreserved 
and prompt, the separation from the world was 
marked and hearty. Not so among the rich. 
Many, many noble exceptions there were ; but 
the rule was quite the opposite of that among the 
poor. Not for a moment, however, did she believe 
that, under a change of "circumstances, the poor 
would be any better proof against the seductions of 
wealth; she had witnessed, alas! many sad proofs 
to the contrary. But it was this : — she saw that 
wealth, unused for the Lord and misapplied, exerted 
a most pernicious influence upon the heart of its 
owner ; that as riches are ordinarily held and used, 
the door of the gospel was thereby closed upon their 
possessors. To this fact our Lord referred when he 
said : " How hardly shall they that have riches enter 
into the kingdom of God ! for it is easier for a camel 
to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich 
man to enter into the kingdom of God." 

She accepted it with thankfulness and joy, as a 
special token for good, that her own church had not 
become a resort for rich and fashionable Christians, 
but was pre-eminently a home for the poor, among 
whom were found so much oftener those who are 
" rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom. " She insist- 
ed that the Lord would always see to it, that where 



1 74 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

the gospel was preached to the poor, at least as zeal- 
ously and tenderly as to the rich, there should be a 
sufficient number of noble-spirited rich men to minis- 
ter of their substance in meeting pecuniary necessi- 
ties, or that there should be repeated over and over 
again the mystery of the widow's barrel of meal and 
cruse of oil. 



self-sacrificing benevolence. 

Her benevolence was not the kind that could be 
content with sending what she could spare by the 
hand of another. She did not shrink from the dis- 
comfort of going in person, or from heaviness of 
heart at seeing destitution and wretchedness. Be- 
sides sending, she wanted to extend personal sym- 
pathy, " to weep with those who weep," and pour in 
the consolation of the gospel. But she never went 
empty-handed. She was as willing to do for the 
poor as she was to speak to them of Christ ; nay, she 
never thought of separating the two. Limited in 
her means she yet gave largely, because she gave as 
those did of whom it is said : " Their deep poverty 
abounded to the riches of their liberality." She even 
prayed for wealth, believing that the Lord had given 
her the grace to desire it alone for his cause, and she 
yearned to have it in her power to relieve, where 
often her heart could only ache. It is also due to 
say, that during the last few years of her life three 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 175 

several bequests came to her, amounting to as many 
thousands of dollars, to sustain her in the benevolent 
impulses of her heart. 

Only the Lord knows how many thanks have been 
verbally returned to her, and how many blessings 
invoked upon her in cellar and garret, by the way, 
at her door, and in her kitchen. My eye now falls 
upon a note from a woman of culture and great 
worth, but struggling with pecuniary embarrass- 
ments, in another State : 

" I hardly know how to thank you for your gift. I know you have 
made some sacrifice to send it, and I thank 3 r ou many times. I hope 
you may never know from experience how very much it will help at 
such a time." 

Received late in her life, from many hundreds of 
miles away, was found a letter from which these ex- 
tracts are taken : 

" Every day I find some new reason to " have faith in God." The 
barrel has been stowed away in the warehouse all this time, and yet it 
has come to light, as I trusted, before the coldest weather. * * * 
The contents of the barrel are, indeed, most acceptable and valuable to 

us. Since 's sickness, he has had frequent attacks of ague, and you 

should have seen the grateful smile which overspread his face, as he 
drew on a new warm shirt, which I immediately made from the nice 
domestic muslin which you sent. Of all your generous donations, I do 
not know which to mention first, for all of them are so timely, so 
much needed. Emotions of gratitude overcome me. * * * The 
clothes which you sent will be of great assistance. * * * The chil- 
dren, as well as Mr. , send their warmest love and thanks." 

For a long period the time had not been when her 
hands were not more than full, doing for others to 
self-neglect, and even to self-forgetfulness. It was as 



176 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

true of her as it was of Job, she delivered the poor 
that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none 
to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to 
perish came upon her, and she caused the widow's 
heart to sing for joy. She was eyes to the blind, 
and feet was she to the lame. She was a mother to 
the poor, and the cause which she knew not she 
searched out. But about the only remembrance she 
had of it all was that she had done very little. 

Down to the last moments of life, that disposition 
to forget herself in caring for others strongly im- 
pressed itself upon the attending physicians. In 
seeking not her own, but another's wealth, she trod 
the sure road to enduring riches and righteousness. 



UNSUSPECTING 

It was difficult for her to look upon a beggar as 
an impostor ; and admitting that there might be 
such, she still thought it a much less evil to be im- 
posed upon, than to turn away from some wounded 
spirit timidly venturing forth under the sternest ne- 
cessity. Only by frequent deceptions, long con- 
tinued, could she be brought to suspect dishonesty 
before it was proven. 



" THE TONGUE— A WORLD OP INIQUITY." 

Dislike for tale-bearing, whispering, backbiting, 
disparaging criticisms, fault-finding insinuations, was 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 177 

a marked characteristic. Everything in that line 
she looked upon as dishonorable among men and of- 
fensive to God. Not from the force of resolution 
did she abstain from it, but from such an appre- 
ciation of the meanness and evil of it as to feel 
compromised in voluntarily listening to it. She was 
so separated in spirit, in sympathy, in all her judg- 
ments, from those who meet to discuss the failings of 
others, that a gulf quite impassable was lying be- 
tween. Daily companionship with that class of per- 
sons would have made her dwelling seem to crowd 
hard on to the borders of woe. 



PROMPTITUDE. 

Intimate acquaintances will not be likely to read 
the little word " Done," that closes Mary's first com- 
position, without feeling a strong provocation to 
laughter, for the reason that it will spring upon them 
so unexpectedly, a full portrait in miniature of the 
original. Every act of her life seemed to be com- 
plete in itself, and was as promptly begun as it 
was entirely accomplished. Nothing that could be 
done to-day was left till to-morrow, and nothing was 
put in such a form as to need supplementing. In 
some unaccountable way she appeared to be always 
ready to begin what was to be done, and, before 
leaving it, must feel that she had " done what she 

could/ 7 so that it was discharged as done to make 
8* 



178 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

room for something else. Her manner and every- 
day movements all took on the form of promptitude 
and completeness. If a tumbler of water or a cup 
of coffee was set down, the act was prompt and 
finished. It was more than a mental habit, and was 
a great secret in the undertaking and accomplish- 
ment of so much good. 



WORLDLY AMUSEMENTS. 

Once she was herself a fashionable professor of re- 
ligion, an admirer of the dance, practiced and ac- 
complished in the art ; but from the day she was 
wedded to Christ, by a living faith, she parted with 
it forever. She believed that the best arguments for 
dancing, the opera, and kindred popular amuse- 
ments, legitimately pressed and carried out, would 
end in violently sweeping away all distinction in life 
between those who love Christ, and those who love 
him not, and would brand with falsehood the decla- 
ration : " The friendship of the world is enmity with 
God." In the light of what she had seen, and felt, 
and heard, with no meagre opportunities for obser- 
vation, it was worse than idle to tell her of the 
friendliness of such associations to spiritual religion. 
By as much as their hostility was concealed they 
were only the more perilous. Not to say that they 
were immeasurably inferior to and beneath the 
spirit and the aims of the gospel, she believed that 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 179 

they were lying in a direction wholly the opposite. 
It was to her a mystery, that Christians, unless 
already yielding under powerful temptation to com- 
promise with the world, could fail to see every dis- 
guise torn away from such worldly devices by 
language like this : " Love not the world, neither the 
things in the world. If any man loves the world, 
the love of the Father is not in him, because all that 
is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of 
the eyes, and the empty pomp of life, is not of the 
Father, but is of the world !" " If, then, ye were 
raised together with Christ, seek the things above, 
where Christ is sitting on the right hand of God. 
Set your mind on the things above, not on the 
things upon the earth, for ye are dead, and your life 
is hid with Christ in God !' 7 " Be not conformed to 
this world, but be transformed by the renewing of 
your mind, that ye may discern what is the will of 
God, the good, and well-pleasing, and perfect." 



INTER-MARRIAGE BETWEEN BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 

Mrs. Sarles held that Christians were not at liber- 
ty to form intimate, and, least of all, marriage al- 
liances, with unbelievers. God had laid his prohibi- 
tion upon it. Such unequal yoking would be sure 
to result in repelling and alienating the unconverted, 
or in compromises stifling to the spiritual life of 
the other. Occupying forbidden ground and un- 



1 80 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

repentant, a Christian has no promise of sustaining 
grace, and no reason to hope for honored usefulness. 

When I announced a determination not to partici- 
pate again in the solemnization of such marriages, I 
said to her, that she, of course, would lose many a 
fee by it. She replied, that now, from that time, she 
would give to the Lord two dollars instead of one 
out of every ten received from marriages. She was 
more than faithful in fulfilling the promise. 

Deeply did she deplore that, among Christian 
mothers and daughters, marriage should be regarded 
as quite indispensable to a reputable standing in so- 
ciety and a happy life. She believed, on the con- 
trary, that " holy women " have a higher and happier 
mission, except as marriage shall be the Lord's choice 
for an obedient child. " The unmarried woman cares 
for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy 
both in body and spirit ; but she that is married 
cares for the things of the world, how she shall please 
her husband." On this high ground, she asked, why, 
therefore, ought not Christian women to rejoice, and 
even exult, in wholly committing that great question 
of redeemed life, and work, and influence on the 
earth into their Father's hands ; refusing to accept 
any decision but his, and waiting upon him respect- 
ing it, in no doubtful plans or associations, but only 
in the walks of clearly revealed duty and privilege ? 
Then, married life, when appointed by him, would be 
both happy and useful and blessed for all worlds .; and 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 181 

not less so single life when he appointed it. An- 
other course than this must be fruitful chiefly in 
disaster to Christian life, personal and relative, in 
sorrow, and in wasted gifts. She believed that en- 
lightenment in the church and in the pulpit was 
sadly needed respecting this greatest of practical 
questions, next to redemption by the blood of the 
cross. 



CHEERFULNESS. 

She rarely carried any other than a smiling face, 
and it was from the abundance of the heart. Under 
trial, instinctively she was casting about to turn an 
untoward providence to some good account. Despite 
the stunning effect of some blow, she would be sure 
to find her way at an early hour to a cheerful 
side of it. She dreaded gloomy people, and greatly 
admired the opposite trait, especially in Christians, 
believing that in Christ there were high and holy 
grounds for gladness and joy evermore. There was 
a friend of ours in whom she quite saw her ideal of 
Christian equanimity and cheerful fortitude. She 
often spoke of her, and the following scrap referring 
to that one was found among her papers : 

" Mrs. is the embodiment of cheerfulness. Her husband, 

since the war, has had his business broken up and is in a very de- 
spondent state of mind. He groans and feels sad forebodings 
relative to everything. She says : ' Why, father, instead of groan- 



182 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

ing mornings when you wake, you ought to praise God for such 
a nice bed and comfortable home !' 'Ah, well ! mother, we shall 
be brought to bread and water yet.' ' Well, bread and water 
are more than either of us deserve ; and yet, just notice what an 
abundance of everything we have.' ' I fear we shall be brought 
to the poor-house yet.' ' Well, father, if they give me a south 
window, where the sun comes in, so I can keep a few flowers, I can 
be happy ; for I shall have, as the old lady said : All this and 
Christ too." 

Life to her was never a burden. At long inter- 
vals, sometimes years intervening, her great sorrow 
would come into remembrance, from the nervous 
shock of which very likely she never wholly recovered, 
and for an hour or a day she would seem almost un- 
equal to the swelling tide of tumultuous emotions. 
With these extremely rare exceptions, and known 
perhaps only to myself, she was uniformly more than 
cheerful and full of hope, because trusting in God. 
She saw no dark day of coming want or desertion ; 
and if she admitted the possibility of it, she was sure 
it would be the choice of infinite love and wisdom, 
and therefore all would still be well. 

Death also had no terrors. While life was no 
burden, and she found full and happy employment 
continuously, she held it a ready offering, to be 
yielded up at any hour of day or night. Of this she 
often spoke, and with so much of cheerfulness that it 
could not be unwelcome. She would say : " Well, 
if the Lord should appoint to take me by this illness 
or the other, why might it not be well ? Why not 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 183 

in that way as well as any other ? And if he appoints 
it now, why not well as if later ?" 



RELIGIOUS DEVOTION TO HER CHILDREN. 

The spiritual welfare of her children monopolized 
all her thoughts about them. For this it was in her 
heart to live and die. She believed that such was 
the parent's appointment by God. On this ground 
she always insisted that missionaries ought not to be 
asked and ought never to consent to separation from 
their children. Under no plea but that of absolute 
necessity would she admit 4hat it could be right. 
That unspeakably solemn responsibility God himself 
laid upon the parent's heart. Only he, by special 
revelation, could shift it. The burden of her heart for 
her children was, not alone their salvation, but their 
early conversion as well, — whether their days were 
few or many, — a life-long service under Christ. 
Nor did she come into a state of rest concerning 
them till she had so passed each one into the hands 
of the infinitely blessed God through a living and 
prevalent Intercessor, that she felt assured of accept- 
ance in her petition. About the salvation of each 
while they yet lived, she was at rest, knowing whom 
she had believed, and being persuaded that he was 
able to keep that which she had committed to him, — 
the early and everlasting salvation of her children, — 
against that day. Her heart was so much upon it, 



184 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



that with Bible stories she would hold her little girl 
fast bound, and was never more happy than when so 
employed, often wishing that she had a dozen others 
growing up with her. 



THE FOOLISH VIRGINS. 

Her own experience awakened great fear that a 
vast multitude of professors of religion might be de- 
ceived. From a child she was particularly familiar 
with the language of religion. Few could handle 
it more impressively, and she herself accepted that 
intellectual discernment and approval as the undoubt- 
ed meaning of true religion. Letters and composi- 
tions, very many, carry with them the strongest 
verbal proof that at an early age she was certainly 
born again. And yet, down to the close of her life, 
there was yearly a deepening conviction that she 
knew nothing of the grace of life till after the great 
sorrow. If her maturest judgment may be accepted, 
God's great mercy to her was designed to serve as a 
searching appeal. Let the appeal be enforced by 
the extraordinary sentences that follow, written 
under great trial, but which she insisted were 
written in a state of unregeneracy. 

To her mother, on the outward voyage, she wrote : 

" Do not fear for me. God will protect me and support me 
through -whatever troubles I am called upon to meet. I shall be 
well taken care of. What Mr. M. said troubled me at first, but 



MORAL AND RELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 185 

now I feel better, and have placed myself in God's hands altogether. 
* * * Do not fear for me, God will support me through any 
sorrow. * * * God, to whom I pray constantly, will support 
me, and give me grace to bear any chastisement, and sanctify it 
to me, no doubt. * * * I am alone this night on the ocean, 
but the same God watches over me and you, and in this thought 
I am happy and content. * * * Yes, now we are at sea, 
nothing but sky and ocean, both calm, clear, and smooth. How 
good is God ! first, in giving me the opportunity to go ; and 
now these favorable days that I may get to my journey's end 
safely, I hope. * * * I hope I have a grateful, praying 
heart, for God is so good to me, and I am so unworthy. * * * 
To-day there is a heavy sea and hard storm, thunder and light- 
ning and violent rain. The ship is tossed like a feather on the 
ocean, and the sky looks black and lowering. I have no fear of 
danger, for I think we have the same Protector on the sea as on 
the land, and 

' Eocked in the cradle of the deep, 
I lay me down in peace to sleep ; 
Secure I rest upon the wave, 
For thou, Lord, hast power to save.' 

* * * u Providence has watched over me. He that holds 
the waters in the hollow of his hand, has also bid them be still 
again. The storm is past and the sky is again calm and clear. 
That expression of God's holding ' the waters in the hollow of 
his hand,' no one can appreciate until she has been at sea. This 
mighty mass of water, this heaving, turbulent sea, what an exhi- 
bition of the Almighty's power is it ! In God I put my trust, for 
he is above the powers of earth, and I know his grace will sup- 
port me in every trial." 

In all her later years she has looked back with 
agitation upon those days of deep and fatal delusion, 



186 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

admiring the sovereign grace that opened her fast- 
closed eyes. 

If such men as Thomas Scott and Thomas Chal- 
mers might occupy for many successive years the 
sacred desk, in all sincerity discharging the func- 
tions of the ministerial office, and at length awake 
to the awful fact that their hearts had never been 
submitted to Christ, why should it be incredible that 
this was another instance, designed again to send 
the note of alarm among the circles of nominal pro- 
fessors of religion ? 

There is nothing in her history that she would not 
rather have omitted than her warning testimony 
against unsuspected delusion under the cloak of re- 
ligion. 



HUMILITY. 



Of the most of her compositions, and many of the 
most beautiful, I knew nothing till since she was 
taken away from us. She had not deemed them of 
sufficient value to be brought to notice. 

Her attainments as a Christian she regarded as 
specially meagre, often making comparisons with 
others very disparaging to herself. Her view in 
that respect would have had a depressing effect had 
she not learned well the happy art of looking at once 
away from herself and her services, to Christ. Cor- 
dially and gratefully and exultingly did she renounce 



MORAL AND EELIGIOUS CHARACTERISTICS. 187 

every service of her head and heart and hand, to 
take Christ as All. But it is even affecting to re- 
member how little she knew of her worth, and what 
a low estimate she formed of every service rendered 
by her in the cause of Christ. She doubted whether 
she had any means of knowing certainly that her 
efforts had been owned of God in ministering grace 
to airy soul. There was such a deep and abiding- 
sense of unprofitableness, that, with all her activity 
and tireless energy, she felt as if she were putting 
forth so little effort for the Lord that it must be 
beneath his notice. Instinctively I reproach myself 
for not overwhelming her with accumulating evi- 
dences of her widely extended and divinely accepted 
toil. But I am reminded that that was not withheld. 
No ; but it was this — her spirit of humility was so 
deep, that she could not be made to take any other 
place than that low one. Appreciated worth and 
honored usefulness were wondrously hidden from her. 
It is inspiring to look forward and see with what 
overwhelming surprise she will hear her numerous 
deeds owned by the King himself before an assembled 
universe, when he will say : " Come, blessed of my 
Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from 
"the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and 
ye gave me to eat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me 
drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took me in ; naked, 
and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me j 
I was in prison, and ye came to me." 



188 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

Her voice will be loud among those who exclaim : 
"Lord, when saw we thee hungering and fed thee ; 
or thirsting and gave thee drink ? When saw we 
thee a stranger and took thee in : or naked and 
clothed thee? And when saw we thee sick, or in 
prison, and came to thee ?" 

For the reason that she was drawn especially to- 
ward those who had no helpers, the last that could 
requite her, how particularly significant will be the 
answer : " Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least 
of these my brethren, ye did it to me." 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 189 



CHAPTER XIII, 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 

If unwritten tributes to the worth of the departed 
could have been photographed, a great volume of 
tenderest import would lie before us, and it should 
never be closed. Much of this lies sacredly treasured 
where no words can introduce another whose eyes 
have not seen, whose ears have not heard, and whose 
hands have not felt what ours have. 

The circumstances of many friends, however, ren- 
dered it necessary for them to say in writing what 
they could not say by their presence and tears, 
while others have, besides, felt called upon to act in 
particular associate capacities. Some of these com- 
munications, so precious to us, are likely to appear 
marred in the attempt to separate and omit as much 
as may be what belongs to the living ; while others 
must be altogether retained in manuscript for our- 
selves, because so largely referring to those who yet 
survive. Two or three brief exceptions are allowed, 
as beautifully suggestive of the true sources of conso- 
lation under bereavement. 

Since the completion of Mary's studies, fourteen 



190 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

years had passed, and yet before her parting from us 
could be publicly announced tidings of it had found 
their way to her cherished school, and the folio wing 
kind note was quickly in our hand : 

Brooklyn, June 1, 1866. 
My dear Sir : — The teachers of the Packer Collegiate Institute 
learn, with deep regret, of the sudden death of Mrs. Sarles, a graduate 
of the Institution, and a member of the " Associated Alumni." But 
while we mourn the departure of another member from our ranks, we 
rejoice that the memory of her talents, virtues, and unobtrusive piety, 
and the record of her good deeds, will ever remain a memento of 
departed worth. 

We herewith tender our most profound sympathy to you, and com- 
mend you to the sustaining grace which made her life beautiful, and 
her death an exchange for a blessed immortality. 

A. Crittenden, 
In behalf of the teachers of the Packer Collegiate Institute. 

Here also the unwritten volume opens. If human 
sympathy could have healed the wound, the aching 
had been of short duration. In overflowing tides it 
came. Only next to divine sympathy is that of loving 
human hearts under the sweet influences of grace. In 
the church, in the congregation, in the community, 
in the ministry, nothing was withheld that weeping 
tenderness could suggest. May none of these hun- 
dreds need to sorrow alone in trouble. 

On the fourth day came the burial. Her former 
beloved pastor, Rev. H. F. Smith, who also officiated 
at her marriage, has sketched it thus : 

THE FUNERAL. 

On Monday morning June 4th, many personal friends gathered at the 
home once radiant with the smiles and ringing with the tones of wel- 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 191 

come. How changed ! The solemn hush of death sat upon the closed 
lips, and silently sent a sermon to every heart. The pastor of the 
church at Bloomfield, N. J., of which she was formerly a beloved mem- 
ber, spoke of the great grief, the grateful memories, the sweet conso- 
lation, and the precious hopes of the occasion. The venerable Rev. 
Ira R. Steward led in an inspiring prayer, and the remains were borne 
to the sanctuary in Bridge Street, in whose services her soul had so 
often joined with delight. As the cold form was taken through the 
great throng, "Sister, thou wast mild and lovely" was rendered by 
the choir with a pathos impossible to any but real mourners, and open- 
ed the tide-gates for the outgush of grief that filled all hearts. Dr. Wm. 
H. Wyckoff expressed the feelings of the bereaved church in words of 
tender affection, and intense emotion, alluding comprehensively to 
several of the traits which so endeared the departed to the congrega- 
tion and the community. Dr. Armitage preached on the resurrection 
of the body, leading the thoughts of his hearers away from the gloomy 
grave to the perfect deliverance from the bondage of death. Dr. H. 
G. Weston followed with an address full of fraternal love and sympathy, 
and abounding in gospel consolation. Dr. Moore, J. B. Thomas, R. 
Lowry, and A. P. Graves, of the many ministers present participated 
in the exercises, after which, Dr. J. L. Hodge led in prayer, with 
tenderness and fervor bearing up the sorrows of the bereaved to the 
throne, committing all into the hands of the great High-Priest, and 
supplicating grace sustaining, comforting, and sanctifying for the 
stricken. 

Then came the sad leave-taking. The shrouded body lay just in 
front of the baptismal tomb from which it rose nine years before. A 
mournM procession now passed. The appearance of the various 
classes who looked into that open coffin was suggestive of the power 
which God gave her to draw and retain affection. Old and young, 
grave and gay, rich and poor, mingled their tears, and many in the 
throng tarried, reluctantly ceasing to look upon the beloved counte- 
nance. 

Seldom does one see the evidence of worth appreciated that was 
revealed on that day ; and the intense sympathy then shown toward 
the servant of God who was called to put away his dead, beautifully 
illustrates the power of the Christian religion to bind the hearts of the 
saints in the union of a sympathizing, loving brotherhood. 

In beautiful Greenwood the body was laid to rest until the resurrec- 
tion shall reunite it to the soul already " at home with the Lord." 



192 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

The prominent points in Dr. WyckofFs address at 
the funeral, and by order of the church transferred 
to its records : 

The numerous friends of our departed Sister Sarles were accustomed 
to contemplate in her the following marked characteristics : 

A native simplicity that pervaded all that she did. It made her 
frank, guileless, and natural, and imparted an air of freshness and vi- 
vacity to her conversation. 

A tender, sympathetic nature, which prepared her to feel the woes 
and share the happiness of others. 

A personal humility, which disposed her to prefer quiet and retired 
paths of study and usefulness. 

An unselfish spirit, which exhibited itself in numerous instances of 
prompt and cheerful self-denial, to promote the happiness, or even 
the transient pleasures of those around her. 

A delicate conscientiousness, which readily discriminated the right 
from the wrong. 

Genius and talent, highly cultivated, but modestly shrouded from the 
public eye. 

These, and other natural endowments, were hallowed and heightened 
by abounding grace, and thus constituted a character distinguished for 
piety and loveliness. 

The poor loved her ; for she was always intent upon devising means 
to improve their condition, often at a great sacrifice of her own per- 
sonal ease and comfort, and of the small pecuniary means which Provi- 
dence had bestowed upon her. 

The church loved her ; for she was constantly originating and prose- 
cuting plans for its prosperity. 

The youth and the children loved her ; for she was always young 
and cheerful among them, and striving to make them happy and useful. 

Her family loved her ; for she lit up her home with perennial joy, and 
filled all the duties of her domestic relations with exemplary fidelity. 

And society loved her ; for she appeared equally in her place in all 
situations, a centre of unconscious attraction, with a mild dignity and 
sense of propriety that sustained her without effort, and imparted a 
peculiar grace to all her deportment. 

An extract from the church letter, prepared by the 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 193 

clerk, Mr. Wm. S. Durbrow, for the New York 
Association : 

Mrs. Mary E. Sarles, the beloved wife of our dear pastor, Rev. John 
W. Sarles, was suddenly called to the mansions of the blessed, on 
Thursday, May 31, 1866. Not only has our dear pastor been bereft of 
a faithful, devoted, and affectionate companion ; but the church, Sab- 
bath school, mission societies, and the unfortunate, have lost a friend 
whose heart, hand, and best affections were warmly enlisted in then- 
welfare and prosperity. Nature, as well as grace, had endowed her 
with traits of character which gave a remarkable fitness for the import- 
ant sphere in which she moved. In the Sabbath school, the mild and 
amiable graces of her character shone out with radiant beauty and 
loveliness ; it was her delight to gather the young around her, and 
point them to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world. 
It can be truly said of her, that the welfare of our Zion and all its in- 
terests absorbed her very being and controlled all her actions. The 
unaffected piety, devotion, and self-sacrifice in the cause of her Master 
that marked her intercourse with us, have given her a place in the af- 
fections of the church that will ever remain green in our memories. 
But her labors and toils on earth are over, and she has joined the ran- 
somed who " have washed their robes and made them white in the 
blood of the Lamb." 

From the records of the Sacred Literary Society, 
by its President, Rev. Joseph Greaves : 

Since the last regular meeting of this Society, it has pleased God to 
remove suddenly by death our much beloved friend, Mrs. Mary E. 
Sarles, who departed this life on the 31st of May last, in the midst of 
a life of usefulness and devoted Christian labor. 

In her removal, this Society realizes that it has lost one to whose 
deep interest in the spiritual welfare of the young, the Society owes 
its existence. Deeply taught herself in divine things, and conscious 
of their unspeakable value, it was her constant desire that others 
should be brought in the happiest way into direct contact with Bible 
truth. To the attainment of this object she labored with untiring 
zeal and fidelity, leaving to each member of this Society a bright exam- 
ple of true Christian love and affection. Upon her it had pleased God 
to bestow manifold blessings, which, in a peculiar manner, fitted her 
9 



194 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

for imparting instruction to others. Naturally gifted, and having en- 
joyed the advantage of a liberal education, she entered into the service 
of her Lord and Master only to employ these sanctified talents for his 
glory and the good of others. But above all, the Society is called upon 
to admire the rich grace which shone so conspicuously in all her con- 
nection with it, and labors for it, causing her to walk before its mem- 
bers as a living exemplification of practical godliness. 

May the same spirit which wrought so mightily in her fill the souls of 
those whom she left to take up the labors she was called upon so 
suddenly to lay down. 

In the first paper of the Sacred Literary Society 
after Mrs. Sarles was removed from earthly associa- 
tions to those in heaven, the introductory article, 
prepared by one of the present editors of it, Mrs. 
Wm. H. Wyckoff, reads thus : 

" We are sadly reminded that one whose gifts were employed in 
rendering these pages pleasing and instructive, 
' Her blessed labors done, 
Her crown of victr'y won,' 

has passed from earth — passed to her home on high. 

" In the removal of this dear friend we are deprived of association 
with one who adorned all her relations in life, shedding a mingled halo 
of grace and genius on every pursuit in which she engaged; and Ave 
can not worthily speak of any one of her numerous virtues, without 
seeming to neglect others equally conspicuous and attractive. 

" She has left us ! But we may cherish her memory, profit by her 
example, and follow in her path — ' the path of the just, which, as the 
shining light, shineth more and more unto the perfect day.' 

" We may also carry out some of her plans of usefulness, few of 
which she contemplated with more hope and satisfaction than that 
which resulted in the formation of the Sacred Literary Society. Let 
us prosecute the work so auspiciously commenced. Then, although 
her voice will no more be heard in these gatherings, nor her glowing, 
loving thoughts of Jesus and his word be penned for us, yet her in- 
fluence, like the lingering rays of glory that gild the horizon after the 
sun has disappeared, will continue to shed beauty and radiance on 
the scenes that were once blessed with her presence." 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 195 



From the Morning Star Mission Band : 

Report of the Committee appointed to prepare a memorial of Mrs. 
Sarles to be recorded on our minutes. 

Wliereas, Mrs. Mary E. Sarles, our late friend and beloved co- 
worker in the "Morning Star Mission Band," has been called away 
in the midst of her labors ; and 

Whereas, The removal of one so eminently zealous and efficient, im- 
poses enlarged and additional duties on us who remain ; therefore 

Resolved, That we will endeavor, by prayer and effort, and by in- 
creased liberality and renewed consecration to the work, to manifest 
our regard to the departed, and to supply the deficiency caused by 
her decease. Also, 

Resolved, That we record on our minutes the following tribute of 
affection, prepared by the Chairman of the Committee, Mrs. Benjamin 
Palmer : 

" To portray the features of character of one so lovely and gifted re- 
quires a pencil dipped in tints of fairest hue. 

" The contributor of this frail memorial feels it to have been a privi- 
lege of no common order to have met her often ; and among her most 
cherished reminiscences is that of the last conversation she had with 
her, about a month before her death, when she spoke with much in- 
terest of the Mission Band Fair. The active energies of her mind 
and body were not confined to her own church or city, but extended 
to foreign fields and laborers. 

" Every contemplation of such untiring devotedness should stimu- 
late all who survive to consecrate themselves afresh to the carrying 
forward of those labors which she, alas! too soon left. 

" May we abide under the inspiration which seems to nerve us as we 
see the graceful labors of her pen ; or contemplate her amid the 
young, or those of more mature years, whom she sought to train to 
fill places of usefulness in life's morning or meridian day." 

The following communication was received from 
the Woman's Union Missionary Society. 

At a meeting of the Managers of the Woman's Union Missionary 
Society, held the 13th of June, 1866, the sad intelligence was com- 
municated that Mrs. Mary E. Sarles, wife of Rev. J. W. Sarles, pastor 
of the Central Baptist Church, Brooklyn, had passed from earth since 
the members last met. 



196 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 



The following resolutions were then adopted : 

Whereas, Our heavenly Father has removed by death, Mrs. Sarles, 
a beloved member of our Board of Managers, who has been connected 
with us, from our earliest organization ; therefore 

Resolved, That although by faith we realize the joys into which she 
has entered, yet with deep feeling we mourn the loss of a faithful 
friend, a zealous laborer, and a wise counselor, who testified by word 
and deed that the cause of the Woman's Mission lay very near her 
heart. 

Resolved, That the sincere sympathy of the Managers be tendered 
to the bereaved family of our loved co-worker, with fervent prayers 
that the presence of the Holy Comforter may ever be near them. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be recorded on the minutes of the 
Society as a testimonial of our heart-felt regret and respect. 
In behalf of the Committee. 

The memorial that follows appears on a draped 
page in the Missionary Link for July. 

MEMORIAL. 

It was with a shock of deep regret and surprise that we read the 
brief notice which told of the first inroad death had made among our 
Board of Managers, by removing Mary E. Sarles, wife of Rev. J. W- 
Sarles, of the Central Baptist Church, Brooklyn. Although it was not 
permitted her to meet with us during the past winter months, few will 
forget the deep and untiring interest she has felt in our Woman's 
Missionary Society from the earliest date. Faithfully was our cause 
presented in private to the many with whom her social position as a 
pastor's wife daily brought her in contact. And even during the 
summer period of recreation, efforts were not wanting in our behalf, 
which resulted in the formation of a Mission Band, whose effect on 
undying souls may prove an influence reaching through eternity. 

Not many months ago, when giving us the results of this little band, 
how much did she warm our hearts with her written words of sym- 
pathy and cheer, and breathing fervent prayers for our growth and 
prosperity. * * * 

We shall sadly miss her approving smile and her words of gentle 
counsel so acceptably and wisely offered; but the memory of them will 
ever be a beacon of light to us, pointing above, where " hope shall 
change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise." 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 197 

Her former associate editor of the little paper of 
the Sacred Literary Society, intimate with her as 
few others were, writes : 

" Our precious one fell asleep in Jesus on the last day of Spring, 
1866, just as her own beautiful life was dawning upon its summer- 
time. Not in the early morn, not mid the shadows of declining day, 
but just after the solemn bell tolled the hour of mid-day. 

" Fit time for her who was in the early noon-day of lovely Christian 
womanhood. Not a word, not a look, not a sound, told the approach 
of the 'Rider on the Pale Horse,' as he quickened his steed to over- 
take her, engaged as only such purely good beings know how to be ; 
the hour previous, in sweetly mirthful conversation. 

" The expression which settled upon her features was not that of 
one whose spirit has fled, or of one even in sweet slumber, but of one 
whose lids drooped because of the great love and happiness that 
thrilled the heart, fearful if they unclosed they would reveal too much 
its joy." 

From the wife of a deacon in the Church to Mrs. 
Smalley : 

" Knowing that you are surrounded by relatives and friends, I am 
unwilling to intrude on the privacy of your affliction, yet can not 
allow you to leave the city without expressing my deep and individual 
sympathy in your great sorrow. Our family, my boys and girls, all 
feel that they have lost a friend, for your dear one had a heart large 
and loving enough to take in all mankind. I do pray the great Com- 
forter may pour the balm of Gilead on your wounded spirit, and spare 
you to bless and comfort those that are left. * * * 

" Let us believe that ' the righteous are taken away from the evil to 
come.' Whatever storms or troubles shall arise to us, she is at rest, 
safe in Jesus' arms." 

From a sister of Mr. Hermanns, in Central New 
York, to the family : 

" How often have my thoughts been with you, her dear mother, hus- 
band, and sister, in this your hour of sore trial and deep affliction ! I 
think I can imagine how sad and broken-hearted you all are. We, too, 



198 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

feel sad and bereaved. We have lost a dear friend. What a great 
consolation to us that she was prepared to enter her home above the 
skies ! Why she was taken so suddenly, and when doing so much good, 
seems strange to us. Truly 

' God moves in a mysterious way.' 

"I wish I could be with you. * * * How little we thought when 
I was with you last fall that she would be the first, so soon and so sud- 
denly ! She seemed so cheerful and happy. I have thought how often 
of my visit — it was so pleasant, but too short. I am thankful that I 
saw you all then. * * * I can not realize that she is gone never to 
return. It seems like a dream to me. Do write me as soon as you can 
and tell me more about her. 

" Truly your sympathizing and bereaved friend." 

From a brother of the first Mrs. Sarles, in behalf 
of his father's family : 

"We were much pained to hear of the death of Mrs. Sarles. Our 
acquaintance with her had been very slight ; yet in the short time 
we had known her, in the brief visit she made us, we had all learned 
to love her. We were glad that such an one would take the place of 
our Cornelia. * * * We can truly offer you our heartfelt sym- 
pathy — the more abiding because of our great esteem for her who has 
gone. I have often thought of the wide difference there must be in 
the memory of those whose many virtues crown them as the heirs of 
Light, and those whose future is vailed in uncertainty. The one a 
cherished, the other a sad recollection. * * * 

" F. often speaks, with pleasure, of her visit with you last winter, 
and she bids me now to write for her as well as myself. All wish to 
be warmly remembered to you, and to offer sincere condolence to 
your mourning household." 

From a cousin, in the State of Delaware, to Mrs. 
Smalley : 

" I think of you every day, and your sorrow ; for well do I know what 
the separation from dear Mary must be, notwithstanding the bright 
faith that surrounds you. Oh! what would become of us in such sea- 
sons of distress without this faith? What a comfort when we can feel 
and know in our inmost hearts, that whatever pains us is ordered in 



love, and by Him who can not err! * * * The very affliction that 
is crushing our hearts with its load of woe, is the very thing to fit our 
souls for heaven. I must ever lament her loss. Only One knows how 
I loved her. * * * She has passed the dark river, is rejoicing with 
loved ones gone before, and is waiting for those left behind. "What 
a happy thought that we will see and know the dear ones we have 
loved when we reach the other shore ! What gladness and joy all must 
feel who thus meet ! And it can not be long ; a few more days and 
years at the most, and earthly cares are over, no more griefs or pains, 
no more parting." 

From a cousin, who was at Cape May, to Mrs. 
Smaller : 

" Repeatedly I have attempted to write, and have felt that I had not 
words to express my deep sympathy for you. To-day we received a 
letter from Miss Bergen, informing us of the dear babe's death. I can 
keep silent no longer. 

" I am now sitting on the piazza, just where dear Mary used to sit 
when writing to you. The spot seems sacred to me, and I often im- 
agine that I see her. She will never be dead to me. How often I 
bless the Lord for the precious visit she made us! It will be one of 
the green spots in memory to look back upon — the many pleasant 
conversations we had together. How richly her mind was stored 
with heavenly knowledge, and how constantly did she refer to the 
mercies of a Savior's love. I hope and trust I have lived nearer my 
dear Savior ever since that visit. I am often led to think how com- 
pletely she has finished the work her heavenly Father had given her 
to do ; and now she has gone home to dwell with him forever and 
ever. The only thing we can mourn for is, that we have lost such a 
bright and shining light. I always felt that she was too bright a light 
to be permitted to stay in this world of sin and sorrow. You can but 
feel, — what shall I say, proud ? No ; I will say thankful, that you were 
the mother of such a daughter, dutiful, talented, and such a devoted 
Christian. She is not dead, nor ever will be. * * * All I ask is 
that I may be found as she was with my lamp trimmed and burning. 
My dear father and I were talking of her sudden death. He said it 
was just such a death as he should like to die. I said it was a great 
mercy for the one taken, but what an awful blow for the survivors. 
He said that they ought not to grieve when they knew that their loved 
ones were enjoying felicity which the Bible could not describe." 



200 MEMORIAL OP MARY E. SARLES. 

One whose noble husband, while living, adorned 
the Christian name and the medical profession in 
this city, writes from Rhode Island : 

" Will my beloved friend and pastor pardon me for intruding upon 
grief so sacred ? I can not forbear expressing to him my heart's deep- 
est sympathy in the bereavement of which I have only learned through 
the newspaper. It came upon me very suddenly and has filled my 
heart with sadness. I wish I could say something to you ; * * * 
but I feel that all I could say would have but an empty sound. I 
can only assure you of the great sympathy we all feel for you in this 
your darkest hour." 

To the family, from the daughter of a Baptist 
minister, a young lady who for long years has been 
an invalid confined to her room : 

" I trust you will not deem me intrusive in thus coming to you in your 
deep affliction and sorrow. I so sincerely sympathize with and sor- 
row for you all, that I can not forbear giving some expression to my 
feelings. God has visited you, and with a stroke removed your loved 
one. Terrible, indeed, is your loss ; but oh, is it not her gain ! The 
messenger came swiftly, but he found her not unprepared ; no, blessed 
be God for the evidence we all have that her soul was dressed for the 
bridegroom, the righteousness of Christ her wedding garment ! Oh ! 
what glories must have burst upon her vision as her emancipated 
spirit entered those mansions which have been prepared from before 
the foundation of the world for the redeemed ! Yes ; for her all was 
joy and happiness, such as we can not conceive. She has entered 
into the joy of her Lord, and received the ' Well done, good and faith- 
ful servant,' from that Savior 

" Whom absent she loved, 
And whom unsoen she adored." 
Oh ! can you grieve for her ? But I know full well that, while heaven 
gained another occupant when angel hosts welcomed this ransomed 
one to join their song and swell the glorious anthem before the throne, 
a home on earth was suddenly darkened and made desolate. Stricken 
ones were there, who, in the anguish of their hearts, cried out : ' Would 
God I had died for thee !' and feel, perhaps, that God has dealt hardly 
and very sorely with them; but can you not believe that God * * * 



WORTH APPRECIATED. .201 

has visited you in mercy ? Our views are very, very finite, we can see 
but a little way around ; as for the future, that is completely hidden 
from our sight. Hence the providences of God, who seeth the end 
with the beginning, appear strange and dark, often seeming to clash 
or be at cross-purposes ; but He that inhabiteth eternity, the great, the 
eternal Jehovah, has his plan all laid out as a map before him, and he 
is bringing all to pass according to his infinite wisdom and love. This 
great sorrow of yours has a part in it, though now you can not see 
where or how it fits, but it will appear hereafter. Perchance it may be 
the means of bringing some poor souls to Christ, of quickening those 
who are already his but have languished in their love, and strengthen- 
ing earnest ones. Surely, surely it will not be for naught that your 
loved one was removed, and a void made in your loving hearts that 
can never be filled. But though my heart is full of love and sorrow 
for you, I fear I do but trespass on your grief. I can not give utter- 
ance to what I would say. * * * Oh ! I trust you will not lose 
sight of the love of God ! In sympathy and love." 

From a devotedly attached friend, in East Hamp- 
ton, Mass., to the family : 

" This night one week, as I was sitting by my table, I tookup the Times 
of Saturday morning, and was attracted by ' Sarles ' among the 
names of the dead. For one moment I stopped, not daring to read on. 
I never knew or heard of but one by that name. My rebellious heart 
prompted me to say : ' There are plenty of Sarles's ; you may lay 
your paper aside,' and so I did ; but again took it up, and read, to my 
horror and amazement, of the great, sad loss to mourners, whose ' name 
is legion,' of our precious Sister Mary ! I could not believe my eyes ; 
I did not wish to believe ; I felt I could not bear it ; and I have not 
felt equal to writing to you. Yet, I have so longed to comfort you ; 
to see and to talk with you. * * * No one can wish her out of 
heaven, only from our selfishness ; and yet how can we, who loved her 
so truly, live without her? It is well you have an Almighty arm on 
which to lean ; no human aid could sustain in this dark hour. * * * 
You have much to draw you to heaven when you shall have finished 
your labors on earth. How truly ripe for heaven our dear Mary was ! 
Her labors and sorrows are all over, and she has gone to her eternal, 
sweet sleep, — 

' Blessed sleep, 
From which none ever wakes to weep.' 
9* 



202 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



" How the angels will welcome her ! Would 1 could have seen her 
once more ! God grant I may follow her good example on earth, and 
permit us at last to meet in heaven. * * * 

," I wish I could step right into your sitting-room this evening, and 
mingle my tears with yours ; it is one common grief. * * * 

" Please write and tell me, if you can, of my darling Mary's sickness 
and death, and of those she has left; and may the God of all healing, 
the loving, tender Father, comfort and sustain you all, is my earnest 
and fervent prayer. Affectionately and sorrowingly." 

From a lady in the church was brought a life-like 
photograph of Mrs. Sarles, set in a garland of pre- 
served flowers, with a frame beautifully wrought of 
pure shells, and, printed underneath the picture, the 
lines : 

" There everlasting spring abides, 
And never withering flowers !" 

The note from her husband accompanying it was 
in keeping with the delicately arranged token : 

" Bear Pastor : — The shell-work that accompanies this is the work 
of my wife, and is intended as a token of regard for her whose like- 
ness is inclosed. Most of the flowers were used when the precious re- 
mains were conveyed to the tomb ; some were also used at the funer- 
al of the dear babe, and others were contributed by attached friends, 
and are thus preserved together. We hope that there will be nothing 
about the arrangement that will fall harshly upon your feelings. * * * 
I hardly suppose that I have worded these few lines in the best man- 
ner, if not please forgive ; and should this affair be in the least uncon- 
genial to you, we hope that you will not hesitate to put the whole 
aside, and be assured that none will feel hurt except for having given 
you unnecessary pain. Yours affectionately, 

James Watson." 

Another member of the church then took it, and 
beautifully encased the whole in black walnut. 
There are now but few things about our home upon 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 203 

which we look more gratefully than upon this sacred 
but sunny memorial. 

From a letter to the family by a lady in Wareham, 
Mass., who had been long and intimately associated 
with Mrs. Sarles : 

" You have been much and often in my thoughts and the subject of 
my prayers. I have been wishing to express some of my many 
thoughts of affectionate sympathy, and to tell you how earnest is my 
desire that abundant consolation shall be your portion in the season of 
trial through which you are passing. My prayer has been, that God 
would give you grace to glorify him, by entire submission to his will. 
I do most sincerely sympathize with you in this great bereavement, and 
rejoice that we have a compassionate Savior who loves to comfort the 
mourner. Go to him with all your sorrow. ' Call upon me in the day 
of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me,' is a most 
consoling promise. Could any other than an Almighty arm uphold 
you in this hour of deep bereavement? Could any tones be as tender 
as those which say : ' It is I; be not afraid?' You think of that loved 
one, her self-denying, self-sacrificing spirit, her earnest desire to do 
her Master's work, her visits to the sick and sorrowful, her love for 
heavenly things ! You did not know how soon her Christian character 
would be perfected, — how soon her labors of love would be exchanged 
for the service of God, day and night, in his temple. How pleasant to 
remember that sweet voice, ever ready to sing the songs of Zion, now 
added to the angelic host, singing the song of the redeemed ; and yet 
we are so selfish as to weep when a celestial harp is placed in the 
hands of one we love. She is now with the many loved ones who have 
gone before. They must have gladly welcomed so congenial a spirit. 
That Savior whom she trusted so confidingly, she now beholds with 
unclouded vision. * * * 

''God calls his own, in his own time and way. We have only to say : 
1 Thy will be done.' He tells us ' he does not afflict willingly.' * * * 
If I should repeat what I have often said, it would be, why was it thus? 
But, ' what we know not now, we shall know hereafter.' " 

From a cousin, Mrs. Davison, the wife of a Bap- 
tist minister, in Missouri : 



204 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

" How eagerly I once looked for my precious cousin's letters ! How 
bitterly I feel the loss of her kind words of encouragement ! Not one 
of our friends whom we have personally known holds a higher place 
in the love and respect of our children than the dear cousin who took 
such a deep interest in their welfare." (These children had never seen 
her.) " Although so far distant, she exerted a most salutary influence 
on their minds. The older ones, particularly, appreciate her pure and 
exalted character. The mementos which her own dear hand directed 
to them are sacred. After Willie heard of her death, he took his 
Natural Philosophy out of the book-case, and looked at it sorrowfully, 
saying: ' Cousin Mary sent me this; I shall keep it as loug as I live, 
and put it out of every one's reach.' He handles it tenderly, and very 
seldom allows any one to touch it. Mary says : ' If ever any one was 
perfect, it certainly was dear Cousin Mary.' The two poems which 
you kindly inclosed held the children spell-bound, by their thrilling 
beauty. The heavenly aspirations with which her last poem concluded 
seemed prophetic. Arthur readhis primers last winter, and sings with 
Emmie very many of the beautiful hymns which were sent. 

" When I attempt to write of my dear lamented cousin my emotion 
overcomes me. I can not do justice to her unexceptionably pure and 
noble character. Her life appears to me but a bright succession of 
lovely, unselfish acts. Gifted with superior artistic taste, and intel- 
lectual attainments, which gave promise of a most successful literary 
career, she sacrificed her ambition at the foot of the cross. A general 
favorite in the highest circles, she yet was willing to forego the adula- 
tion of the gay world, entering with all the energy of her nature into 
the service of her Lord. The aged and the young felt the charm of her 
winning manners, and her happy, hopeful spirit created a sunny atmos- 
phere in the lonely room of the sick and bereaved. 

" As months roll on, I only realize more sensibly her irreparable loss, 
and weep that such exalted worth, such loveliness, has passed away. 
When we prayed so earnestly for her happiness, we little thought that 
eternal blessedness would so soon be her portion." 



Mrs. F. A. Danforth, late missionary in Assam, 
tried, faithful, and sustained, writes to Mrs. Smalley 
as only those can who have been made acquainted 
with sorrow : 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 205 



" Philadelphia, June 16, 1866. 

" I have just learned of the death of your daughter and my frieud, 
Mrs. Sarles. I am shocked and pained by the sad tidings more than I 
can express. I know too well, alas ! what sorrow is to think that I 
can say anything to comfort you in this great bereavement ; but I 
know, too, that the words of sympathy which I received from many 
kind friends in the hour of sorrow afforded me a little relief, and fre- 
quently helped my agonized soul to look away to Christ, the only 
Comforter. 

It seems so mysterious that one so useful as your dear daughter, so 
much needed by her husband and little ones, in the very prime of life, 
should be taken away. Ah ! I know how the stricken heart will 
question again and again, and in its agony ciy out : Why must it be 
so? Why were not our prayers answered ? 

" At such an hour the suffering soul can only turn to God, to his holy 
word. That solves the mystery. The precious truths there revealed 
are the only consolation in the wide universe. 

"'As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you!' were the 
words that first brought comfort to my soul in the hour of my desolate- 
ness. The assurance that my Savior's love was unchangeable, that he 
loved me as much when he removed my dearest friend as when he 
gave him to me, was a relief to my sorrow which no words can de- 
scribe ; and though I could not, and can not now, see how it can be 
love which would take from me my greatest earthly joy, yet I have 
found it sweet to trust him, to believe that he leadeth me, and to fol- 
low him, though it be through a dark and thorny road. I know that 
he is near, I put my hand in his, and follow him. 

"And I pray, my dear afflicted friend, that you may be enabled to 
cling to Christ, and feel that it is all right, that you would not have it 
otherwise unless you knew it were Christ's will, and so resting your 
soul in his priceless changeless love, you will find joy and peace even 
in the midst of great sorrow. 

" And when we, my dear friend, look back upon this sorrow from the 
heights of heavenly bliss, as our departed loved ones now do, shall we 
not say, with more exalted joy : ' We thank God for this baptism of 
suffering ?' " 



The widely known and beloved missionary, Mrs. 
M. B. Ingalls, writes : 



206 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 



" Providence, June lih. 
11 How shall I be able to rest my eye for a few moments upon the 
picture of your desolation ? Yesterday these tidings reached me, and 
your home followed me all the day. I could not bring the real picture 
before me. I was at your door, I met the hearty grasp and received 
the warm kiss. I sat by her side, that eye — that beautiful eye — looked 
into mine, and her lips opened to words of sweet sisterly sympathy, 
and then she rose : ' I will call my dear husband, for he will be glad to 
see you.' You came, and with you came your little pet. All the day 
long this picture was before me, but the shades of night gather- 
ed, and then the picture of a desolated home appeared. * * * I do 
not purpose, my dear brother, to offer you words of comfort. I only, 
out of the fullness of my heart, which went out so tenderly to your 
dear one, mingle my tears with yours ; that sigh which comes forth 
from your stricken heart calls forth a kindred sigh from my heart, 
and I say the Lord has taken our dear one ; let us try to feel that our 
loss is her gain, that the call is a call of love." 

Mrs. Jemima Lord, a beloved missionary in China, 
writes from her distant field of labor : 

" The loss of your beloved one must be an affliction deep and lasting, 
for she was one whom none could know without loving. Even I, 
whose acquaintance with her was of such brief duration, feel that I 
have lost one of my dearest friends; but then her memory is blessed, 
and I love to dwell upon it. Truly, she was full of good works. How 
she longed for souls ! How entirely she gave herself up to the service of 
her Master! Well ; she had doubtless fulfilled her task, and now she 
is gone to enjoy the reward and to sit down in the presence of Jesus ! 
Still she has only begun to reap, she will be gathering fresh sheaves 
perhaps for eternal ages. Her works do follow her, but we can not 
help saying : Oh ! that she had been spared to us a little longer ; her 
dear husband needed her, the church needed her, the Sunday school 
needed her, her friends far and near all needed her. Yes, so we 
thought; but the Lord's thoughts are higher than our thoughts, and he 
has called her to a more glorious service. It must be well, and also, 
perhaps by means of her death, many will rise to a life of righteous- 
ness, and thus will her most earnest prayer be answered." 

In a letter from Rev. H. F. Smith, her former 
pastor in Bloomfield, he writes : 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 207 



" Your dear wife so interlinked herself with all our social and church 
life while here, and maintained such affectionate interest here after 
she left us, that we still loved to call her ' ours' after she had become 
' yours,' and filled a constantly widening circle with her Christian 
activities. 

" In the extension of his kingdom, our Master often uses the prayers, 
the sweet Christian graces, and the self-denying efforts of woman. 
The period of such a presence here is determined by himself. Some- 
times a sweet maidenly flower, whose fragrance is just beginning to 
float on the air, is removed by the great Gardener before its delicate 
tints have been appreciated here ; sometimes a " mother in Israel" is 
left long to testify of the divine love and faithfulness, and to encourage 
and strengthen the inexperienced. Unlike these, however, the sub- 
ject of this memorial, richly endowed mentally, and with a heart 
softened and drawn by divine grace, so that her whole existence 
seemed to be devoted first to work for Christ, was taken at meridian. 
In the midst of distinguished usefulness, while opportunities appeared 
to be opening on every side, the great Father called his dear child, 
and harvest sprang from the lap of summer, ripening the saint, and 
furnishing new occasion for the songs of the celestial choristers who 
shout, ' Harvest home !' Grace has brightened into glory, but the ra- 
diance of the life on earth lingers, and is intensified by the glory which 
streams down to us from the jewel which now flashes in the crown of 
Iramanuel. All felt her adaptation to the position she took when she 
left us ; nor were we disappointed once during the years that we saw 
the mild shining of her light in her home and in the church. 

" We remember her constant love to our church. She did not suffer 
the nearer responsibilities and wider relations of Brooklyn to crowd it 
from her heart. The same solicitude which in so many ways mani- 
fested itself while with us, was evinced by frequent visits and many 
expressions of interest. Indeed,/her heart was incapable of excluding 
any interest of the Redeemer from it. Its great loving capacity ex- 
panded, until ready to burst, for the reception of everything that 
would glorify Jesus and benefit humanity. 

"With unabated affection we looked upon her during those six and a 
half years in Brooklyn, crowded with work, but crowned with cheer- 
fulness. A good organizer, enthusiastically energetic in the details of 
charity, able to be familiar with the poorest when needful, yet shining 
in the first intellectual circles ; always seeking to make others happy, 
and often sacrificing to do it ; gathering a company of aged women to 
spend a social afternoon for mutual spiritual profit ; riveting the at- 



■■ 




tention of her infant class by her familiar talks on the Bible ; organ- 
izing the young people into circles for literary and spiritual improve- 
ment, encouraging them by her own advice and example ; entertaining 
missionaries and their families for weeks at a time ; corresponding 
and working for missions in various places ; in a word, working as 
much of the world-field as she could ; her meat and drink appeared to 
be the finishing of the work which her Master gave her to do. 

" The news came suddenly and unexpectedly. Two churches were in 
mourning. The Central Church gave her to us ; after a season we 
gave her back ; and now both have given her to the church triumph- 
ant. Her record is on high. What she was, what she did, what she is, 
none more emphatically than herself would attribute entirely to divine 
grace. To the glory of redeeming grace let us erect this memorial." 

From Rev. H. Harvey, D. D.. late pastor of the 
First Baptist Church, Dayton, 0. : 

* * * " I am glad you are designing some permanent memorial of 
the dear departed one. It is a tribute eminently due to her character 
and usefulness, and can not fail to be a benefit as well as a gratifica- 
tion to the many who knew and loved her. I can never forget the 
genial, sunny spirit she always evinced; the self-forgetting, disinter- 
ested kindness with which she entered into plans for others' welfare, 
and the broad, generous culture of taste and intellect and heart always 
displayed in her life. She always seemed to me so perfectly the living, 
practical, Christian woman ; not after the type of the recluse, saintly 
nun of mediaeval ages, but the every-day, large-hearted, noble woman, 
whose life touched every other life around her, and shed unceasing 
blessings in all the paths she trod. Like her loved Master, she ' went 
about doing good,' and it must be many years ere the memory of her 
gentle counsels and kindly deeds can pass away in Brooklyn. And I 
am sure that none of the many who have ever come under your roof 
can forget the warm welcome and generous hospitality which they 
always met there. Missionaries in distant lands, and ministers from 
all parts of our own, who have been welcomed to your happy home, 
deeply mourn that this light of your dwelling has gone out." 

Written by Mrs. H. J. Swezey, Associate Editor 
with Mrs. Sarles in the Sacred Literary Society : 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 209 



Just as the glorious sun had gained 

Its full meridian strength, 
The " silver cord " that bound our own 

Was loosed to its full length, 
That she in sweet noon-day of life 

At home with Christ might be,— 
It only loosed, it did not break, 

'Twill tighten when we're free. 

Just as Spring clasped her open hand 

Within fair Summer's own, 
The golden bowl was broken quite, 

With her full life o'erfiown. 
Quick as the rose might scattered lie 

When come to its full bloom, 
So quick, we ne'er had known, save by 

The sweet, exhaled perfume. 

Joy of the house ! Bright light of home ! 

Key-note of harmony ! 
Playing the chords of every heart, 

So soft, yet skillfully ; 
We knew not whence the music rose, 

Where else had discord been ; 
We only knew we loved the hand, 

That woke sweet peace within. 

Her aim in life was like her Lord's, — 

The Father's will to do ; 
That will to know, the appointed means, 

She ever kept in view. 
Her honored Lord did honor her, 

With grace for ev'ry hour ; 
She gave no glory to herself, 

Acknowledged but his power. 

The poor did bless her as she passed ; 

God's people, too, were cheered ; 
The lonely felt they had a friend, 

And smiled, where, else, they'd feared. 



210 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

The sick reached forth their withered hands, 
And looked with hope away, 

While she, in accents calm and low, 
Spoke of the " better day." 

With gifts of heart, were gifts of mind, 

Most gracefully entwined ; 
Yet, while within her presence charmed, 

No thought to her confined, 
You deemed yourself the source of joy ; 

She was so humbly great, 
She drew no thought unto herself, 

We learned who charmed too late. 

Now here, — now gone ! But only gone 

From earthly sight away ; 
Gone in the way most fitting her, — 

In beauty ; not decay. 
Her eyes weighed down with happiness, 

Her breath quite gone with joy, 
It was not death, it was not sleep, 

But life without alloy. 

Her little bud, torn from its stem, 

What could it do but fade ? 
Her birdling sweet, thrown from the nest 

Where it had softly laid, 
Could only stretch its tiny wings, 

To reach that mother loved, 
An angel saw, stooped down, and bore 

It safe to her above. 

For she had, by prophetic eye, 

Its future to her brought ; 
And, with a mother's yearning prayer, 

The Savior for it sought ; 
Dipped in his blood, and offered up, 

With that sweet incense prayer, 
It welcome was, and room for it 

In Paradise was there. 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 211 

With all ray appreciation of Mary's worth, very 
imperfectly did I understand what a treasure was 
brought to my house when she entered it. From the 
first day till the hour when she was borne away by 
the angels, she was more than willing to take from 
me every burden she could carry. In family worship 
she always read the Scriptures, and so impressively 
as only one in thousands could ; and almost uniformly 
she led in the song of praise. 

Self-forgetfulness in her care for me at once became 
apparent, and was often checked to be forgotten as 
soon. A single instance will indicate her apprehen- 
sion of what was the office and happiness of a wife, 
and her delicate sense of what was due to her hus- 
band : It was the understanding that if he were not 
in at the hour appointed for dinner or tea, the family 
should not wait. But when he came, early or late, 
the presence of no ordinary company or caller could 
detain her from sitting with him at the table. If he 
excused her a thousand times, it made no difference. 
She claimed that it was her place and her privilege 
tlmi to be with him, not with the company. Nor was 
it more what she did than her way of doing things. 
Acquaintances will know that no mere partiality 
prompts the statement that her every movement was 
instinct with grace of manner. This was not with her 
an art ; it was the fruit of no study, except to act out 
freely the promptings of her own nobility. When I 
returned home after ever so short an absence, it was 



212 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

to be met with smiles and welcomes. During all 
those years I hardly ever passed her in room or hall 
when her hand was not tenderly, and as by instinct, 
extended to take mine, then to press it warmly. 

As if born into those views which holy women of 
other ages who were taught by the Holy Spirit held, 
she was ever acting under the inspiration of that 
sentiment : " In like manner, ye wives, being in subjec- 
tion to your own husbands ; that even if any obey not 
the word, they may without the word be won by the 
deportment of their wives, when they behold your 
chaste deportment coupled with fear. Whose adorn- 
ing, let it not be the outward one of braiding the 
hair, and of wearing golden ornaments, or of putting 
on apparel ; but the hidden man of the heart, in that 
which is imperishable of the meek and quiet spirit, 
which in the sight of God is of great price. For 
so in the old time the holy women also, who hoped 
in God, adorned themselves, being in subjection to 
their own husbands (as Sarah obeyed Abraham ? 
calling him lord ; of whom ye became children), 
doing good and fearing no alarm." If there was one 
thing left undone that she could have done for her 
husband, I do not know what it was. 

Let me also add, may this article fall under the 
eye of no man in whose heart there is no response to 
gentle, confiding submission, but endless exactions ; 
who is devoid of capacity to catch the deep, deep 
import of that language: "Husbands, love your 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 213 

wives as also Christ loved the church, and gave 
himself up for it." 

She knew and sincerely loved the first Mrs. Sarles, 
and the love was mutual. Her high sense of what 
was due to that deservedly sacred memory, and her 
generous disposition respecting it, have won profound 
admiration. It was at her instance that our first- 
born was called Maria Cornelia, tenderly to per- 
petuate with the name of her own mother that of the 
first Mrs. Sarles. Nothing about my study occupied 
so conspicuous a position as a photograph of that same 
one departed. Mary had so arranged and so desired 
it. In her unselfish disposition to cherish that pre- 
cious memory she was unconsciously engraving her 
own only the deeper. Her Christ-like nobility it is 
that has stamped itself so imperishably upon our 
hearts. It lingers more tenderly than could a vision 
of angels. She had so endeared herself to the sever- 
al branches of my family that her removal sent poig- 
nant sorrow to each heart, and her loss is felt to be 
irreparable. 

In our domestic circle, or when each is alone ; in 
the busy morning, at twilight, or in midnight wak- 
ings, the memory of this sainted one, while it often 
comes over us in suffocating tides, yet comes only 
to woo and win, to transform, to ennoble, to bless. 
Priceless is the legacy that she has bequeathed to 
her family. 

The church of God, the congregation, the ministry, 



214 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

knew her worth and loved to tell it. All along 
her way was exemplified the truth of those declara- 
tions : " Them that honor me I will honor I" and, 
" He that humbles himself shall be exalted I" No 
one wished to be her rival. She was so unpre- 
tending in her extraordinary qualifications, that each 
one felt a special pleasure in seeing her honored 
with office, and position, and commendation. The 
aged, with peculiar delight, welcomed her approach ; 
the young claimed her as theirs pre-eminently; the 
cultivated admired the ease and purity of her lan- 
guage, her ripe intellectual culture, and the unstudied 
grace of her manners ; the untaught found her so 
simple in speech and manner, and so lowly in spirit, 
that all restraint was gone, and they could tell her 
all their heart. The rich accorded to her wealth 
that money could not claim, and felt honored by her 
presence ; the poor had her full heart of sympathy, 
and knew that she was their friend ; the ripe 
Christian loved her coming ; the worldling profound- 
ly respected her, and accepted her faithful and op- 
portune counsels as no impertinence ; the stranger 
was drawn to her ; the home circle loved her most, 
because there she was known best. Never was a 
pastor's wife more universally and passionately 
loved, and never was it more deserved. 

But circumstanced as the pastor's wife is, so liable 
to be suspected of doing too much or too little, of 
being officious or lacking in interest, of favoring some 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 215 

class to the neglect of another, so many judgments 
and tastes to harmonize ; it is due alone to the kindly 
interposing goodness of God, in giving her favor in 
the eyes of the people, that such a result could have 
been reached. It was he who did it. To him, first 
of all, be the devoutest thanksgiving. Nor did she 
ever fail to attribute a very large share of this happy 
agreement to the uniformly generous disposition of 
the people with whom her lot was cast, and of whom 
she was accustomed to speak in almost unmeasured 
terms of affection. 

Angels, looking down upon the great funeral as- 
semblage — rather upon a thousand homes near and 
distant — might well have said : Behold, how they 
loved her ! And it would not be beneath an in- 
spired pen to write : Devout men carried Mary to 
her burial and made great lamentation over her ! 

In contemplating the results of such a life, the 
scene that begins to open is grand and imposing. 
Some whom she had made her friends, in ties that 
are deathless, preceded her, and were there to receive 
her to " the everlasting habitations ;" but a great 
company will presently gather " from east and west, 
and from north and south," all vieing with each other 
to deck her crown with gems that shall burn and glow 
forever. It is written : " They that be wise shall shine 
as the brightness of the firmament ; and they that 
turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever and 
ever." God is pleased thus to " show, in the ages 



216 MEMORIAL OF MARY E. SARLES. 

to come, the exceeding riches of his grace, in his 
kindness toward us in Christ Jesus," and also his 
appreciation of distinguished worth, though it was 
imparted alone by his grace. But mark well the 
point where this crowning grace first appears, — not 
amid the new and exciting scenes of immortal bless- 
edness ; but here, while yet in the body, in every-day 
thoughts, feelings, words, acts — in doing Christ's 
will in the particular spheres in which we move. 
To this one of whom we now speak, grace was given 
to hear that voice : " We are a temple of the living 
God, as God said : I will dwell in them, and walk 
among them ; and I will be their God, and they shall 
be to me a people. Wherefore come out from among 
them, and be separated, saith the Lord, and touch 
not anything unclean, and I will receive you, and 
will be to you a father, and ye shall be to me sons 
and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty." She " was 
not disobedient to the heavenly vision." A life of 
tireless childlike service was lived, and that life will 
live on before God and angels, and in human hearts 
and heavenly raptures, forever. In the long sweet 
eternity upon which she has entered there will be 
ample opportunity for rest, and review and recog- 
nitions, and for endless praise and gratulations. 

The lines quoted by Dr. Weston on the day when 
the angel form was looked upon for the last time, 
may give grateful utterance to other stricken hearts, 
as thev did to this one that still keeps saying : 



WORTH APPRECIATED. 217 

Sleep on, my love, in thy cold bed, 

Never to be disquieted ; 

My last ' good night !' Thou wilt not wake 

Till I thy fate shall overtake ; — 

Till age, or grief, or sickness, must 

Marry my body to the dust 

It so much loves, and fill the room 

My heart keeps vacant in thy tomb. 



" Stay for me there ; I will not fail 
To meet thee in that shadowy vale ; 
And think not much of my delay — 
I am already on the way, 
And follow thee with all the speed 
Desire can make or sorrows breed ; 
Each minute is a short degree, 
And every hour a step toward thee !" 



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